
Pass P$/87r 

Book -h Q - 

jS7d 



LYRICS AND IDYLS 



BY 



(Dadison (Julius (Sawein. 



unw^d u^mou. 



JOHN P. MOKTON & COMPANY. 

1890 









COPYRIGHTED BY M. J. CAWEIN. 



^ 






TO 

James franc &11bii 

AND 

l^nficiit Brums ^ilscn, 

With Regard and Appreciation for the High Stand- 
ard op Beauty the Excellency of their 
Work, Prose and Poetical, has 
given to Southern 
Literature. 



CONTENTS. 



WITH Jiflf*PE RfiG PYPE. 

Ideal Divination, 9 

The Beautiful, 13 

Overseas, 16 

porpiiyrogenita 19 

Oriental Romance, 22 

Love I Had Banished 24 

He Tells, 26 

She Speaks, 29 

Uncertainty, 31 

Fall, 34 

Beneath the Beeches, 36 

Andalia, ♦ 38 

Noera, 41 

Julia, 44 

Lora, 46 

Blanch, 48 

Phyllis 49 

Valkyrien, 52 

Moths, 54 

As It Is, 56 

Thoughts, 57 

After the Tournament 59 

Among the Acres of the Wood, 61 

Love A-Milking 63 



CONTENTS. 



Romantic Love, 65 

Pastoral Love, G8 

Immortal, 70 

Sleep, 72 

Ghostly Weather, 75 

The Bridle-Path 76 

Nooning, 81 

The Log-Bridge, 83 

The Old Farm 86 

Among the Knobs, 90 

Gargaphie, 94- 

rosicrucian, 97 

His Song, 100 

Apocalypse 102 

Illusion, 103 

Duty and Love, 104 

SHAPES RJ4D SHADOWS. 

Blodeuwedd, 107 

The Lady of Verne, 113 

The Succuba, 119 

His First Mistress, 128 

Before the Ball 131 

Masks, 134 

Haunted, 138 

Under the Greenwood Tree, 144 

Revisited, 148 

Lost Love, 151 

Lyanna 153 

Gloramone 160 

The Caverns of Kaf, 168 

The Spirit of the Van, 176 

The Spirit of the Star, 182 

At Nineveh 189 

romaunt of the oak, 192 



U/itl? J^arp^ apd Pype. 



IDEAL DIVINATION. 

MOW I have thought of her, 
Her I have never seen ! — 
Now from a raying air 
She, like a romance queen, 
Flowers a face serene, 
Radiant in raven hair. 



Now in a balsam scent 

Laughs from the stars that gleam 

Naked and redolent, 

Bends to me breasts of beam, 

Eyes that will make me dream, 

Throat that the dimples dent. 

(9) 2 



10 IDEAL DIVINATION. 

Love is all vain to me 
So : and as dust severe, 
Faith: and a barren tree, 
Truth: and a bitter tear, 
Joy: for I wait and hear 
Her who can never be. 

Living we learn to know 
Life is not worth its pain; 
Living we find a woe 
Under each joy we gain ; 
Fardled of hope we strain 
Whither no hope may know. 

Life is too credulous 
Of Time who beckons on. 
Memory still serves us thus — 
Gauging the coining dawn 
By a day dead and gone, 
Day that's a part of us. 

Soul — of life's sins so mocked, 
Clayed in the flesh and held, 
Ever rebellion rocked, 



IDEAL DIVINATION. \\ 



Battling, forever quelled, 
Yearning on heaven spelled 
Over of stars— lies locked 

Supine where torrents pour 
Hell ward; on crags that high, 
Scarred of the thunder, gore 
Heaven: the vulture's eye 
Swims, and the harpies' cry 
Clangs through the ocean's roar. 

Notes of seolian light 
Calling it hears her lips: 
Scorched by her burning white 
Arms and her armored hips, 
Slimy each monster slips 
Back to its native night. 

Rules she some brighter star? 
Inviolable queen 
Of what the destinies are? 
She with her light unseen 
Leading my life; a sheen 
Loftier than beauty far. 



12 IDEAL DIVINATION. 



Oh ! in my dreams she lies 
With me and fondles me: 
Amaranths are her eyes; 
And her hair, shadowy 
Curlings of scent; and she 
Breathes at my heart and sighs. 

If with its slaves I bear 
All of life's tyranny, — 
Worm for the worm, — I care 
Naught if my spirit be 
Hers in eternity — 
Hers who did make it dare. 



THE BEAUTIFUL. 

/J\F moires of placid glitter 

^^ The moon is knitter, 

Under low jade-dark branches 

The blue night blanches; 

Upon yon torrent's arrow 

Gleams sink, as narrow 
As'each blown tress of some soft sorceress 
Spell-haunted slumbering in a wilderness. 

O soul, who dreamest, ponder : — 

Thy witch, thy love, what wonder 
Of charms conceals her from thee powerless ! 

On balmy lakes of glimmer 

Cool sheets of shimmer 

Burn glassy, as if inner 

Sea-castles, — thinner 

Than peeled pearl-crystal curlings, — 

(13) 



14 THE BE A UTIFUL. 

Through eddy whirlings 
Sprayed glow of lucid battlement and spire, 
The smoldering silver of their smothered fire. 
And hers, thy love's enchanted, 
Where are her towers planted ! — 
Heart! that thou could'st besiege them with thy lyrel 

By sands of ruffled beaches? 

On terraced reaches 

Of rolling roses, blowing 

Mouths red as glowing 

Cheeks of the folk of Fairy, 

A palace airy ? 
With pointed casements, thrusts of piercing light, 
Piled full of melody and marble-white ? 

Where beauty, veiled and hidden, 

Smiles? who my life hath bidden 
Come ? by her wisdom accoladed knight ? 

The blue night's sweetness settles — 
Like hyacinth petals 
Bowed by a weight of teary 
Dew — dayward. Weary 



THE BEAUTIFUL. 15 



One mocking-bird, moon-saddened, 

Sobs on ; and gladdened, 
My soul, dissolving, largens to the lie 
Named Death by fearful lips. Love, tell me why 

I may not have thee tender? 

Mix with thee? feel thy splendor 
Expand me like a bud beneath God's eye ? 



i 



'if 



OVERSEAS. 



IW'HEN fall winds morns with mist, it seems, 
^ In soul I am a part of it ; 
Librating on the humid beams, 
A form of frost, I float and flit 

From dreams to dreams. . . . 



An old chateau sleeps 'mid the hills 
Of France ; an avenue of sorbs 

Conceals it; drifts of daffodils 

Bloom by a scutcheoned gate with barbs 
Like iron bills. 

I pass the gate unquestioned, yet 

I feel announced. Broad holm-oaks make 
Dark pools of restless violet. 

Between thick bramble banks a lake — 
As in a net 
(16) 



OVERSEAS. 



The tangled scales twist — silvers glad. 

Gray, mossy turrets swell above 
The feathering foliage. Leafy clad 

Rise ivied walls. A spot for love, 
The garden sad. 

Lean, angular windows, awkward seen 

From distant lanes with hawthorn hedged, 

Beam broadly on the nectarine 

Espaliered and the peach-tree, wedged 
Twixt drifts of green. 

Cool-babbling a fountain falls 

From gryphons' mouths in porphyry ; 

Clear-eddying swim its carp ; white balls 
Of lilies dip it when the bee 

Hugged in them drawls. 

Large butterflies, each with a face 
Of Faery on its wings, recline — 

Beheaded pansies blown that chase 
Each other — down the shade and shine 
Boughs interlace. 



18 OVERSEAS. 



And roses ! roses soft as vair, 
Glorying o'er statues and the old 

Brass dial ; Pompadours that wear 
Their royalty of purple and gold 
With saucy air. 

Her scarf, her lute, whose ribbons breathe 
The perfume of her touch ; her gloves, 

Modeling the daintiness they sheathe ; 
Her fan, a Watteau, gay with loves, 
Lie there beneath 

A bank of eglantines that heaps 
A sunny blondness. Naive-eyed, 

With lips as suave as they, she sleeps. 
The romance by her open wide 
O'er which she weeps. 



PORPHYROGENITA. 

i 

'AS it when Kriemhild was queen 
Leoella? — have forgotten: — 
Eocle we through the Rhine! and seen 

Of a low moon white as cotton? 
I, a knight or troubadour? 
Thou, a princess tho' a poor 

Damsel of the Royal Closes? 
I have dreamed it somewhere sure 
Reading of Kriemhilda's roses. 

II 

Or from Venice with thee fled 

To the Levant, Graciosa? 
Thou, some doge's daughter dead — 

Titian painted thee or Rosa? — 

(19) 



20 PORPIIYROGENITA. 



I, that gondolier whose barque 
Glided by thy palace dark- 
Near San Marco? Casa d'Oro?— 
All thy casement sprang a-spark 
At my barcarolle's "Te o/W 

Ill 

Klaia, one of Egypt, yea, 

Languid as its sacred lily, 
Didst with me a year and clay 

Love upon the Isle of Philse ? 
I — a priest of Isis ? Sweet, 
'Neath the date-palms did we meet 

By a temple's pillared marble? 
While from its star-still retreat 

Sunk the nightingale's wild warble? 

IV 

Have I dreamed it? — I, a slave; 

From thy lattice, Sultana! 
Veilless, thy slight hand did wave 

Me a Persian rose, sweet manna 
Of thy lips' kiss in its heart? 



PORPHVROGENITA. 21 

And through my Chaldaaan art, 

With thy Khalifs bags of treasure, 

From Damascus did we start 

Westward to some land of pleasure? 

V 
Was it thou or haply thou? — 

Thou or thou, thou wast so dearest 
That thy memory holds me now 

Like a passion; lying nearest 
To dead evolutions of 
Death to life and life to love: 

Truth invisible but clearest 
To the soul tha,t looks above. 



ORIENTAL ROMANCE. 

EYOND lost seas of summer she 
Dwelt on an island of the sea, 
Last scion of that dynasty, 
Queen of a race forgotten long. — 
With lips of light and eyes of song, 
From seaward groves of blowing lemon, 
She called me in her native tongue, 
Lowdeaned on some rich robe of Yemen. 

I was a king. Three moons we drove 
Across green gulfs, the crimson clove 
And cassia spiced, to meet her love. 
Stuffed was my barque with gums and gold, 
Strips of rare sandalwood grown old 
With odor; and pink pearls of Oman, 
Large as her nipples virgin-cold, 
And myrrh less fragrant than this woman. 
(22) 



ORIENTAL ROMANCE. 23 

From Bassora r came. We saw 

Her condor castle, on a claw 

Of savage precipice, o'erawe 

Besieging of the roaring spray ; 

Like some white opal rough it lay 

Above us, all its towers a-taper, 

Wherefrom, like an aroma, day 

Struck splintered lights of sapphirine vapor. 

Lamenting caverns dark, that keep 
Sonorous beatings of the deep, 
Moaned demon-haunted 'neath the steep. 
Fair as the moon whose beams are shed 
In Ramadan, the queen, who led 
My soul unto her island bowers, 
I found— yea, lying young and dead 
Anion-' her maidens and her flowers. 



LOVE I HAD BANISHED. 



Vp OVE I had banished away for a day, 
*^ Banished a thorn to the thorns of Scorn, 
Passing, behold how he lay like a ray, 
Lay like the creamiest cluster of may, 
Clad on with myrrh and with morn ! 



Stricken of bitterness fleet were my feet, 

Fleet to the side which my heart had denied; 
Fain for his laughter, a seat at his sweet 
Side, and hard kisses to heal him and heat 
The ice of his wounded pride. 

Holding him there, with the night lying light 

As plumes that are stirred of a sleeping bird ; 
Crushing him close to me, slight beat the white 
Rose of his members, like rain that is bright 
'Neath the sun riding kingly and spurred. 
(24) 



LOVB I HAD BANISHED. 25 



Kissing him there in the glow and the blow, 

Glow of the blue and blow of the dew, 
Leaned to him, happy and slow as the flow 
Of stars that thirst trembling through darkness, 
Blush was his cheeks' hale hue. [leaned low 

Blossoming limbs that breathed rare, and as bare 
As beauty who dreams in the gray moonbeams; 
Glamorous gold fell his- hair that was fair 
Lit of his eyes, starring lustrous the lair 
Of curls that were shadowy gleams. 

Love, I had taken for mate, as the late 

Hours crept slow through the shy night's glow, 
Stole from me leaving a weight as of fate, 
Fate and all scorn, and the harshness of hate, 
Hard on my slumbering woe. 

Love, I had held to my breast and caressed, 

Hiding him deep in the eyes of sleep, 
Waking had flown from the nest he had pressed, 
Pressed with his fondling limbs, and the rest- 
Remembrance that only can weep. 



HE TELLS. 



OU ask how I knew that I knew it ? — 
Like the king in an Asian tale, 
I wandered on deserts that panted 
With noon to a castle enchanted, 
That Afrits had reared in a vale ; 
A vale where the sunlight lay pale 
As moonlight. And round it and through it 
I searched and I searched. Like the tale 

II 

No eunuch black-browed as a Marid 
Prevented me. Silences seemed — 

Nude slaves with the kohl and the henne 

In eyes and on fingers — so many 

White whispers in dimness that dreamed 
(26) 



HE TELLS. 27 



Where censers of ambergris steamed : 
And I came on a colonnade quarried 
From silvery marble, it seemed. 

in 

And here a wide court rose estraded : 
Fierce tulips, like carbuncles, bloomed 

Mid jonquil and jessamine glories; 

Strange birds like the cockatoos, lories, 
Spread wings, like great blossoms, illumed, 
Or splashed in the fountain perfumed ; 

Kept captive by network of braided 
Spun gold where low galleries gloomed. 

IV 

From nipples of five bending Peries 

Of gold that was auburn, in rays 
The odorous fountain sprang calling: 
I heard through the white water's falling — 

More sweet than the laughter of sprays, 

Than songs of our happiest days — 
A music sighed soft, as if fairies 

Touched wind-harps whose chords were of rays. 



28 HE TELLS. 



I searched through long corridors paneled 

With sandal, whose doorways hung draped 
With stalls of the Chosroes, garded 
With Indian gold. Up the corded 

Stone stairway's bronze dragons that gaped"; 

Through moon-spangled hangings escaped — 
Twixt pillars of juniper channeled — 

To a room constellated and draped. 

VI 

As in legends — of visions a vassal 

One hears, yet beholds naught, and hears 

A voice that encourages yearnings; — 

More subtle than aloes- wood burnings, 
The chamber sings filled for the ears 
With melody; nothing appears: — 

My life found your soul such a eastlej 
Your love is the music it hears. 



SHE SPEA1 

T \KT night you told me where we, parting, waited, 
*— k 01 I >v< somehow I'd known before you told — 
Long, long ago this love, perhaps, was fated, 
I it made suddenly so old? 

"Dear things we have and in their own truth ch< 
Born with us seem, and as ourselves shall I 

Part of our lives we can not let them perish 
Out of our present's future or Its past?" 

Then is it strange, dazed by that wider wonder, 
T, walking in the woods the morrow's dawn, 

Should marvel not that Ijy my feet and under, 
The wildflowers now were purer than those gone? 

(29) 



30 SHE SPEAKS. 



The woodbird's silver warble sunk completer? 

The sun whirled whiter, lordlier o'er the noon? 
That night, sweet God! hung starrier, holier, sweeter, 

In Babylonian witchcraft of the moon ? 

All love hath emanations: an ideal 

Beats, beats within all beauty. I was moved 

No more when, dreamed, my spiritual dream rose real, 
Than by what virtue, God divined, I loved. 



UNCERTAINTY. 

JjT will not be to-day and yet 
• I think and dream it will; and let 

The slow uncertainty devise 
So many sweet excuses met 
With many dull confuting lies. 

The panes were sweated with the dawn : 
Through their drilled dimness, shriveled drawn ; 
The aigret of one princess-feather, 
One monk's-hood tuft with oilets wan, 
I glimpsed, dead in the slaying weather. 

This morning when my window's chintz 
I drew _how gray the day was!— since 
I saw him, yea, all days are gray!— 
I gazed out on my dripping quince 
Defruited, torn, then turned away 

(31) 



32 UNCERTAINTY. 



To weep and did not weep, but felt 
A colder anguish than did melt 
About the tearful- visaged year. 
Then flung the casement wide and smelt 
The Autumn sorrow: Rotting near 

The rain-soaked sunflowers, wooden bleached, 
Up whose poor bodies ashen reached 
Nipped morning-glories, seeded o'er 
With dangling aiglets, whence beseeched 
One blue bloom's brilliant palampore. 

The podded hollyhocks, vague, tall, 
Wind-battered sentries, by the wall 
Rustled their tatters; dripped and dripped 
The fog thick on them. Dying all 
The tarnished, drooping zinneas tipped. 

I felt the death and loved it; yen, 
To have it nearer, sought the gray, 
Chill, fading close. Yet could not weep; 
But only sigh some " well-a-way," 
And yearn with heaviness to sleep. 



UNCERTAINTY. 33 

Mine were the fog, the frosty stalks, 
The wreak lights on the leafy walks, 
The shadows shivering with the cold ; 
The torpid crick* t's dreary talks, 
The last, dim, ruined marigold. 

But when to-nighl the moon swings low — 
A great marsh-marigold of glow — 
And all my garden with the sea 
Moans, then the palmer mist, I trow, 
A shadow'll bring to comfort me. 




FALL. 

f'yWl off a wind sprung, and I heard 
Wide oceans of the woods reply — 
The herald of some royal word 

From bannered trumpet Mown to die 
On hills that hold the sky. 

The pomp of forests seemed to moot 
Bluff monarchs on a cloth ot gold. 

Where berries of the bitter-sweet, 
Which, splitting, show the coals they hold, 
Sowed gems of topaz old. 

Where, under touts of maples, bredes 

Of smooth carnelians oval, red 
The spice-bush spangled; where, like bends, 
The dog-wood's rounded rubies -fed 
With color — blushed and bled. 
( 84 ) 



FALL. 

Bo with my dream my soul went out, 
And marked, mid richness cavalier, 

A minne-singer — lips a-pout; 
A voice of sleep and sunlight clear; 
A rose stuck in his ear: 

dancing, like old ( rerman wi 
All mirth and moonlight; naught to spare 
Of slender beard, that curls ;i line 
Above his li|» how humbly there 
A hazel heap of hair. 

His blue baretta's sweeping plume 

A gleam of whiteness droops; his hose, 

Puffed nt the thighs, of purple loom; 
1 1 is tawny doublet, slashed with rose, 
A dangling dagger shows ; 

A slim lute slants his breast. I hear 
The Leaf-crisp coming of his foot — 

No wonder that the regnant Year 
Bends on his beauty blushes mute, 
And sighs to be his kit'-. 



BENEATH THE BEECHES. 

i 

LONG, oh long to lie 
'Neath beechen branches, twisted 
Green twixt the summer sky; 

The woodland shadows nigh — 
Brown dryads sunbeam-wristed : — 
The live-long- day to dream 
Beside a wildwood stream. 



11 

I long, oh long to hear 
The cl austral forest's breathings, 
Sounds soothing to the ear ; 
The yellow-hammer near. 
Beam-bright, thrid wild-vine wreathings: 
The live-long day to cross 
Slow o'er the nut-strewn moss. 
(3G) 



BENEATH THE BEECHES. 37 

III 

I long, oh long to see 
The nesting red-bird singing 
Glad on the wood- rose tree ; 
To watch the breezy bee, 

Half in the wild-flower, swinging ; 
God's live-long day to pass 
Deep in cool forest gi. 

IV 

Oh you, so belted in 

With mart and booth and steeple, 

Brick alley-ways of Sin, 

What hope for you to win 

Ways free of pelf and people ! 

Ways of the leaf and root 

And soft Mygdonian flute! 



ANDALIA. 



Q^OXG, that did waken you, 
^ Song, that had taken you, 
Has not forsaken you: 
Still with the Spring 
My mad and merriest 
Part of the veriest 
Season and cheeriest ; 
You, who can bring 
Airs that the birds have taught you ; 
Grace that the winds have brought you 
Mien that the lilies laughed you ; 
Thoughts that the high stars waft you— 
Are you a human thing? 
(38) 



AND A LI A. 39 



II 

Dreams — are you aught with them? 
You who are fraught with them ; 
You, like their thought, with them 

Beautiful too. 
Life — you 're a gleam of it; 
Love — you 're a dream of it ; 
Hope — you're a beam of it 
Bound in the blue 
Gray of big eyes that are often 
Laughter and languor ; that soften 
On to me sweetly and slowly 
Out with your soul that is holy, 
So purer than dew. 

ill 

Face, like the sweetest of 
Perfumes, completed of 
Flowers God's fleetest of 

Months ever bear. 
Sleep, who walk crisper, sleep, 
Than the frost, lisper sleep, 



•to AND I/./ .!. 

Have you a whisper, sleep, 
Soft as her hair? 
N iit and the stars did spin it ; 
Stars and the night are in it ; 

but one ray of it bind me, 
Aiul, did the blind Fates blind me, 
Fair I should know her, fair! 

IV 

I >ve — has it mated you ? 
Love, that has waited you, 
I w. that was fated you 

Here for a while. 
Song, can you sing in nio 
Fuller, or bring in me 

8, that will cling in me 
So through all trial, 
Such as her smile? like the morning 1 
Fashioning luminous warnings, 
Rose, of a passion unspoken: 
Love, 't is your seal and its token — 
The light of her smile. 



NOERA. 

OERA, when sad Fall 
ir.i-, grayed the fallow; 
Leaf-cramped the wood-brook's brawl 

In pool and shallow; 
When sober wood-walks all 
Strange shadows hallow: 

i, when gray gold 

And golden gray 
The crackling hollows fold 

By every way, 
Thee shall those eyes behold, 

Dmr bit of May? 

When webs are cribs for dew, 

And gossamers, 
Long streaks of silver-blue ; 

4 (41) 



Y 

w -a silence - 

dead loafs rusting hue 

Among crisp burs. 

\ tera, in the * 

Or mid the grain, 
Thee, with the hoiden mood 
Of ^ I and rain 

sunn; blood, 
bheart, again? 

\ ra, when the com 

.0 fields 

r stars adorn 

w th purple shields, 

Defying the forlorn 

1\ cay death wields : 

i being with me, 
Each ruined greenwood glen 

Will bud and be 
S ring's with the Spring again, 

e Soring in th 



NO ERA. 

i of the breezy tread, 
I i et ol the I - / • 

in -beam head, 
1 1< art like a bet 

like a wroodland-bred 
Atiemom 

Thou to October's death 

An April part 
Bring, jrhil eth breath 

i f one who hath 
Made mine a heart. 

Come wii.!i our golden year, 

Conn gold : 

With thy same laughing, clear, 

Loved troice of old ; 
In thy cool hair one dear, 
Id marigold. 



JULIA. 

i 

YOU, who know such Mays as blow 

The cowslips by the ways, dear, 
The mountain-pink whoso heart, you'd think, 
The thorn-pierced sparrow's blood did drink. 
In their wise way, how can you say? — 

Is it you're like such Mays, dear? 
In moods that run from shade to sun. 
A thoughtful gloom; like wild perfume, 
A winning smile that laughs down guile — • 

Dear day ! so go such days, dear. 



In yon some song keeps trying long, 

Like some song bird, for flight, child; 
And when yon speak all up your cheek 
A crystal blush will faintly flush 
( 44 ) 



J'LfA. \:> 



80 saintly jweet! and at your feet 
All shadow turn- to light, child. 
Yon may not know, but it ia so, 
If you but look, bark ! \'nr a brook 
Foams white through buds! for of the woods 
I know you are some sprite, child. 

in 

: I swear that what's your hair 

[a but the soft-spun wind, love : 
Why, when you move it i- as Love 
I lid in your grace and feet to face 
Peeped roguishly ; and well I 

Thi.s Love is not, a blind Lo 
Laugh, and I hear, in each pink ear 
Wbod-blo tin, dew-words of rain 

Slip musical, for you are all 

Of music 10 my mind, love. 



I.OKA. 



] ; ; ORA is her name that slips 
*■* Nearly Love between the lip 

You must know she is so wise 
All she <l>vs is lift her eyes 
At her name ami that replies 

She 's SO wise, is Lor.). 



11 

Lora is her name that makes 
All (ho heart a chord that shakos; 
When she speaks, she is so blessed, 
Life's hard riddle none has guessed 
Softens, ami the soul's caressed 
By the words of Lora. 






LORA. 47 



ber name that bi 
of airy thii 
Honied bum of bees that deep 
In the rumpled blue-bells creep, 
Buoyant mn-h< arts fon -t - keep 
For their shadows' b J< ap 

fn the life of Lora. 

IV 

Lora, when I find your face, 
Round your white neck I will lace 
One firm arm, and so will woo 
Your small mouth, as fresh as dew, 
With quid love, that you 

Follow uiu-t where hearts are true, 
mewhere, somewhere, Lora. 



BLANCH. 

LANCH is adorable and wise 

As — glad winds teaching birds to sing: 
Steal thou and gaze deep in her eyes; — 
Such scholars of the starry skies! 
— Canst marvel at the thing? 

Nay. Blanch, like some ivd bud that blows, 

Hoards honey in her sunny heart: 
Study her smile; wouldst not suppose 
She from some warm, white, serious rose 
Had Learned the happy art ? 

Aye. Words that tarry on her tongue 

Fall more than musical thereof: 
And why? 'T is this: her soul was strung 
A harp at birth to hope that sung, 

Now hope is joined with love. 
(48) 



PHYLLIS. 



F I were her lover 
I M wade through the clover 
Over five fields or mere; 
Over the meadows 
To stand with the shadows, 
The shadows that circle her door. 
I'd walk through the clover 

Yes, by her; 
And over and over 

I 'd sigh her, 
" Your eyes are as brown 
As a Night's looking down 
On waters that she]) 
With the moon in their deep . . ." 

If I were her lover to sigh her. 

(49) 






II 

It I were her ! 

I \1 wade through the cl< 

ive fields oi m 
Ami deep in the thi< 
i 

Whiti 
I 

sper 

. a 

rare 
\- . iere, 

Half ripe and as red, 

If I were her lover to whis] 



in 

It' 1 were her lover 

I \1 « the clover 

5ve fields or m 
Ami watch in tho twinkle 



I'll) i,i, r 



' > - that sprinkle 

'l ■ over her door. 

And there in the cl< 

I '<! reach her; 
An'l over and o 

J "'] teach her, 
A Love without , 

Of laughterful i 
That reckon< '1 <-.i<-\\ second 
The pause of :i J:i--, 
A kiss and . . . that i- 

Jf I were her lover to teach her. 



Y VI KYKIKN, 



/[ i:\ BR a thought of au titer, 

Slau rs that thunder 

a shines, liko a water 
ted in the night o( the levin's wonder. 

I their bleak barbs bristling, 
. the heart ere the lance hath stroken; 
Hum ot* arrows and ' whistling; 

■.. liko an ash. unbowed, unbroken. 
a of Odin. wn is war! — 

Think i [kings' daughters who w< 

■a their hips, and the weights of their hair 
bound red as the board of Thorl 
r . \ irgin who brims i»» the well her ji 

ipe thou butcher! a kingdom's ravish 
N th< sweat and the blood you lavish! 



VALKYRIEN. 63 



Wraths are the pinions of Hate who clamors- 
Hooked wings hovering over the carrion, — 

Joy of the blade the helm that hammers!— 
Songs o! slaughter: The gnarling clarion 

Rings to the revel and sings: with strangling 
Fury it fire- the brain to battle: 

Strength shocks strength : in its brass bray wrangling 
Smiters are smitten: the harsh hills rattle, 

The hard seas rumble, the sharp winds wail. 

Think! — were it better by hollow-eyed Hel 

T<< rot with cowards? or boast and yell 

Hoar o'er Bkulls of the boisti rous ale 

High in Valhalla, where life wends well!— 

The warrior vault of its shields wild cui 

Laughti to the- roar of tin; berserk v<-r 



MOTHS. 

i 
pj (), when the fiery 

*-^ Glow-worm in briery 
Banks o\' the moon-mellowed bowers 
Sparkles— so hazily 
Pinioned and airily 
Delicate! — warily 
Float to buds, lazily, 
Moths that are kin to the flowers. 

n 
White as the dreamiest 
Beams that the creamiest 
Rose of the garden that dozes 
Nestles; that burn in it, 
.1 [eld in the heart of its 
Heart like a part of its 
Pei fume, to turn in it 
Dew, flit the moths to the roses. 
(54) 



MOTHS. 55 



III 
Slow as the forming of 
Dew in the warming of 
Stars, brush their mouths on the petals; 
Open these swing to them, 
Deep to their sunniest 
Soul, where the honeiest 
Spice is, to fling to them 
Nard through the twilight that settles. . 

IV 
So to all tremulous 
Souls come the emulous 
Angels of Love. Else would perish, 
Crushed, all the good in such : 
Touched, the pure presence of 
Love to the essence of 
Light, a white flood, in such 
Flatters — aroma they cherish. 



AS IT IS. 

AN'S are the learnings of his books — 
What is all knowledge that he knows 
Beside the wit of winding brooks, 
The wisdom of the summer rose! 

How soil distils the scent in flowers 
Baffles his science: Heaven-dyed, 
How, from the palette of His hours. 

God colors gives them, hath defied. 

What broad religion of the light, 

Ere stars in heaven beat burning tunes, 

Stains all the hollow edge of night 
With glory as of molten moons? 

Why sorrow is more strange than mirth, 
And death than birth? and afterward, 
What sweetness in the bitter earth 
Makes life's mortality so hard? 
(56) 



THOUGHTS. 

i 

TJJOW the may-apple or 
*®l Solitude cyclamen — 
Star-perfect as a star — 

In woodland glade and glen, 
Blossoms when breezes woo, 
With language of the dew, 
Up to the broken blue 
Of lonesome skies, do you 

Know or do I, love ? 

II 
Can wild anemones 

Think?— for they tremble so; 
As if two cousin bees 
This side then that bent low.— 

5 (57) 



68 THOUGHTS. 

When the soft sunlight links. 
Braided of dew-drop winks, 

Crowns 'round each head that shrinks. 
What its heart's aura thinks 
Know yon or I. low? . . . 

Ill 

Know, when the Springtide trod 

By in a blowing blush, 
Wise as a gaze o\' God 

Holding ill Heaven a-hush, 
Love was her thought and love 
Through the vast soul above 
Wrought so, they sprang thereof, 
Thought into thoughts, were wove 

Symbols of living love. 



AFTER THE TOURNAMENT. 



T^TND shall it be when white thorns flake 
J L With blossoms all the budding brake, 
The rustle of one lifting leaf 

Will whisper low; 
And one be near thee as thy grief — 
And wilt thou know? 

II 

Or shall it be, when blows and dies 
The forest columbine, two eyes 

Will bloom against thine faint as frost? 

Thou, deep in dreams, 
Wilt hark what plaintive winds sigh, lost 
In life that seems? 

(59) 



AFTER THE TOURNAMENT, 

in 
Oi shall it be where rocks slope, smooth 
With water-wear, where vague Lights soothe; 
One in an old lute will beseech 

Thy Listening ears 
With Provence melodies, that reach 
The soul Like tears? 

IV 

V. > ; this will l*o Loop thy white arm 

Beneath m\ hair . . . so; le1 thy warm 

Blue eyes dream on me for a space, 

A little while; 
Love, it will rest me; and thy face — 
Ah. Let it smile. 

V 
Now art thou thou. Yet — let thy hair 
A golden fragrance fall; thy fair 
Full throat bend low; thy kiss be hot 

With life not dry 
With anguish. Sweet my Evalottl 
Now let me die. 



AMONG TIJK ACRES OF THE WOOD. 



KNOW, I know, 
The way doth go, 
Athwart a greenwood glade, ohl — 
White gleam the wild-plumes in that glade, 
White as the bosom of the maid 
Who stooping sits and milks and sings 
Among the dew-dashed clover-riu 
When fades the flush, the henna-blush, 
Of evening's glow, an orange slow, 
And all the winds are are laid, oh ! 



I wot, I wot, 

And is it not 

Right o'er the viney hill ? 

I where the wild-grapes mat and make 

Penthouses to each bramble-brake, 

(61) 



62 AMONG THE ACRES OF THE WOOD. 

And dangle plumes of fragrant blooms? 
Where leaking sunbeams string the glooms 
"With beryl beads? where sprinkled weeds 
Blue blossoms till? and shrill, oh shrill, 
Sings all night long one whippoorwill ? 

Ill 

I ween, I ween 
The path is green 
'Neath beeehen boughs that let 
Gay glances of the bashful sky 
Gleam nsward like a girlish eye. 
At night one far and lambent star 
Shines limpid, like a watching Lar; 
'Mid branching buds a tangled bud. 
Where in the acres of the wood 

Blow strips of wet, wild violet, 
There only we have trysting met. 



LOVE A-MILKING. 

i 

MOARD no more hope! believe me!" 
—"Thou wouldst not make me poor!" 
" Wouldst lead me to deceive me? 
As many a maid before, 
To win me then to leave me ?— 
Say no more, sir, say no more!" 

"Love trusts! sweet faith! thereof , my lass, 
Trust wins to trust above, my lass- 
Love 's older than our love, my lass, 
Not wiser than of yore." 

II 
"Thy love is over simple 
To woo one on the leas ; 
One's kirtle torn ; in wimple 

Unbusked; tanned by the breeze." 
—"Thou needest but that dimple- 
On thv knees, Love, on thy knees! 

(63) 



LOVE A-M1LKI* 

'•What 's wiser than thine eyes, my lass? 
Thy heart?— Beneath God's skies, my lass 
! wiser than the wise, my lass — 

We Mind! 't is Love who sees. 

m 
"'Low apple blossoms breaking 
Pay me the kiss dosl owe." 
— u, Tis thine, thine be the taking." 
- " Vboon the afterglow 
Three kiss-soft stars are waking — 
Walk slow, my love, walk slow." 

"More dear the dusk for dew, my lad; 
More sweet the stars when few, my lad ; 

Life's trials, when love is true, my lad, 
A iv lighter than we know.*" 



ROMANTIC LOVE. 

i 

] ' ' not sweet to know? — 
^ The moon hath told me so — 
That in some lost romance, love, 
Long lost to us below, 
A knight with casque and lance, love, 
A thousand years a 
I kissed you from a trance, love, — 
The moon hath told me so. 

ii 

Or were it strange to wis ? 
The stars have told me tin's — 
Once sang :i nightingale, love, 
On some old i.-I*' of Gre< 

A wizard loved i<> wail, love, 



(Of,) 



66 ROMANTIC LOVE. 

That it might never cease, 
From the full notes a woman. 
More lovely than one human, 
Devised — so goes the tale, love, — 
The stars haw told me this. 

Ill 

Is it not quaint to tell? — 
The flowers remember well — 
Was once a rose that blew, love, 
Pale in a haunted dell; 
And one, a Fairy true, love, 
By loving broke the spell, 
And lo! tlu 1 rose was — you, love, — 
The flowers remember well. 

IV 

To moon and flower and star 
We are not what wo are : 
Sometimes, from o'er that sea, love. 
Whose scolloped sands are far — 
From shores of Destiny, love, — 



ROMANTIC LOVE. 



07 



The winds that wing and war, 
Will waft a thought that glistens 
To memory who listens, 
Reminding thee and me, love, 
We are not what we are. 




PASTORAL LOVE. 

rjjTHE pied pinks tilt in the wind that worries 

" Oh, the wind and the tan p' her cheek; 

And the close sun sleeps on the rye nor hurries- 

Aml what shall a lover speak? 

The toad-flax flowers in flaxen hollows — 
Oh, the bloom and her yellow hair; 

And the greenwood brook a wood-way follows- 
'Shall say to the shv and fair? 



Thegray trees stoop where the daylight sprinkles- 

Hey, the day and the shine i' her eye; 
Ami a gray bird pipes and a wild brook tinkles — 
And what may a maid reply? 
| 68 ) 



PASTORAL I A) VI: 



Hey, the hills when the evening settles! 

Oh the Edens within her ey< 
Say, fche tryst mid the dropping petals! 

Lo, the low replies! 



69 



; ' Yes, when the west is a blur of roses" — 

Jiut what o' the buds o' thy cheeks, my dear' 
" ¥es, when there's rest and the twilight clo 
"And love is breathed in the ear." 



IMMORT U 

►K what thou wilt! long hast thou lived with 
Rowers 

Ami dreams and trod the u 
Of pleasure for one raj ? 
Lsk what thou wilt of all thy lived-out hours. M 

Ami shall it be, when stooping to me there 
He said, w She sloops." and I 
aming divined his sigh. 
Ami felt fierce lips moist-crushed to mouth and hair? 

n Shall it be, when that mad night his fingers 
Id from my brow the curls, 
Dropping like mist rung pearls 
lsofhislov< - words whose memory lingers? 



IMMORTAL. 



Shall it. L< rhile the d 

Gleamed, folded bread to bn 

Wit}) hop': hi <:<l, 

"Such all - nt, futurity 

Shall it be, when, belted irith hi- i 
Loo oul, 

Embracing tritfa the whole 
Truths of our eyes, our live* laughed drugged with 

chai 
No) No! tbathoui wherein he left me lo 
ned, fallen and <\< 
Before the world he prized, 
Whoii; I -'/ . ed him m 



SLEEP. 

ft OOK in my eyes! oh the mild and mysterious 
■*— 1 Deeps of thy eyes that are holy with rest! — 
Sigh to me! yes, as thy cousin, imperious 
Love, might, with lips that are soft and delirious, 

Soft with such pureness as blesses the blessed. 
Fold all my soul in the mild and mysterious 
Might of 'thy rest. 

All the night for thy love, all the night! while the 
gladdening 
Presence of dark as a legend of old 
Speaks in me poesy; none of the saddening 
Prose of the day that is sad with the maddening 

Heart of unrest that is heartless and cold. 
All the Qight for thy love, all the night! and its 
gladdening 

Beauty of old. 



SLEEP. 73 

Scorn is not thine, nor is hate; but the bubbling 
Fountains of strength that are youthful with morns; 

Hurt is not thine of remembrance ; the troubling 

Bruises of waking whose fingers keep doubling — 
Doubling on temples life's cares that are thorns. 

Thine are the hours of the stars and the bubbling 
Wells of the morns. 

Pride and the passion of greed that do worry us, 

Mix with and brutalize; sorrow and spite 
At the heart that's an-aehe with the tears that will 

hurry us 
On in the iron of anguish to bury us — 

Touch them and calm with thy fingers of white. 
Make all these passions and pains, that do worry us, 
Night with the night. 

Thine are the mansions of slumber; the flowery 
Fields of the visions that blossom the dreams; 

Thine the high mountains of peace that lie showery 

Under the stars; and the valleys of bowery, 
Balmy forgettings made misty with streams. 

Thine the white halcyon mansions, the flowery 
Pastures of dreams. 



7 1 






Stay for me; stand by me; stoop to me; pray for mel 

Pray, my Madonna, the incense of prayer I 
Mother of hope! whose kiiul eyes are a-ray for me, 

Vestal with goodness, that tills all the day for me 

Now with a vigor that masters despair. 
Stay tor me; be o( me breath of me; pray for me, 
Sister of Prayer! 




GHOSTLY WEATHER. 

QM'JTE'.S flaws of drizzle hoot and hiss 

™ Through dodging lindens whistled through : 

The dead's own days be days like this— 
Yea: let me sit and be with you, 

Bere in your willow-chair whose seat 

Spreads scarlet plush. Hark! how the gusts 

In Bad aeolian cracks repeat 

Mild moans. They haunt your rooms, whose dusts 

Wan-wind each ornament and chair: 
That locked in memory where you died. 
Since angels stood there saintly U-.w 
Guards each dark angle, mournful-eyed. 

Through this dim eve -loop your dim face; 
Gray gaze, like rain-drops', dimly deep; 
A soft gray cloudiness of lace, 
Stand near me while I Bleep, I sleep. 

(75). 



TllK HKini.F. PATH, 



fHROUGH meadows of the iron-woods, 
Whose purple blooms flash, slipping 
Twice-twinkling drops of dewy beads, 
The thin path twists and winding loads 
Through woodland hollows dripping; 
Down to a creek with bedded roods; 
On to the lilied dam that foods 
The mill, whose wheel through willow-brede 
Winks, the white water whipping. 

11 

It wends through meads of mint and brush 
Where silvery seeds sink drowsy, 

Or sail along the heatful hush : 

Past where the bobwhite in the bush 
Has built a nest, and frowsy 

(76) 



THE BRIDLE PATH. 77 

calling clear. A split throu 
Of crowded saplings Jo\t and hi- h ; 
m by pool i of flag and i 
Where blow the brier-rose blow 

in 

reed fallow-lot 
W'lr 
The '.' - hot ; 

Where on I 

. 
Then in the greenwood where the rol 
Of leaves and loam i ' ; and shot 

With dotting dark the touch-me-not 
Swings curling horns in nun. 

[•; 

Around brown rocks that bulge and lie 
Deep in damp ferns and mosses, — 

' ' ; i lounged on his thigh 

To watch some forest quarry die, — 
The path • p ; then ci 



78 /'///• />•/.'//>/ riwrii. 



A bramble-bridge; up-whirring nigh 
A wood-dove startles, 'thwart the sky 
A jarring light : rock-babbling by 
The brook its diamonds tosses. 



Ho! through the wildwood then we go 

In pulse of shade and singing; 
Whore pale-pink sorrel-grasses grow : 
The ?ari-colored toadstools sow 

Ami swell dark soils, bestringing 
Rough red-oak roots. Where, swinging low 

Their green burs, limbs nib when each slow 

Faint forest wind sounds. Fresh the (low 
Of hidden waters ringing. 

VI 

While far away among the eane. 

Or spice-bush bolts, the tinkle 
0( one stray bell drifts yet again, 
Lost near some lone and leafy lane 

Whore smooth the red ruts wrinkle. . . . 



THE BRIDLE PATH. 

I tain 

Oi rooky blue. A bint of rain. 

'I be 'in i bid. I [ard down the grain 
A gu inkle 

The dimpled dust has drilled. Hark I one 

mouthful of the thunder — 
Gruff! th the dust ire run 

i whiff of 
Of cribs and barn* ; and under 
The martin-builded dun 

f u n , 

Will it be don< h gun ? " 

We wonder and we wonder. 

A crashing wedge r >l tormy Light 

Vibrating blinds, and da 
A monster elm to splinters white. 
Hush : then a fit, of rain that bright 

'I he * umM'-'l straw 



80 THE BRIDLE-PATH. 

The rain i- over. \a ft and right 
Foregathering gales of green delight, 
Fresh rain-scents of each holt and height 
Where each blade drips and flashes. 



A ghostly gold grows slowly through 
The crumbled clouds ; and woven 
From rainy rose to rainy blue 
A strange, sweet dotting as of dew 

Dies into trembling doven. 
High-buoyed in rack now one or two 
White stars shine slight— tho pirate clew 
To Night's rich hoard. The west's a hue 
Of bruised pomegranate cloven. 



NOONING. 



T?V/ , EAK winds that make the water wink, 

* * White clouds that sail from lands of Fable 
To white Utopias vague, and sink 
Down gulfs of blue unfathomable: 

Their rolling shadows drifting 
O'er fields of forest lifting- 
Wild peaks of purple range that loom and link. 



Warm knolls whereon the Nooning dreams; 
In droning dells that bask in brightness, 
Low-lulled with hymns of mountain streams' 
Far-foaming falls of windy whiteness; 

Where from the glooming hollow, 
With cawing crows that follow, 
The hunted hawk wings wearily and screams. 

(81 



82 NOONING. 



in 

Thick-buzzing- heat the dryness fills 
Where ever some hoarse locust's whirring; 

No answering voice shouts in the hills 
Receding echoes far-recurring — 

A.S when the dawning dimpled. 
With hazel twilight wimpled, 
From dewy tops called o'er responding rills. 

IV 

Wan with sweet summer tips the deep 

Hot heaven with the high sun hearted — 

A wide May-apple bloom asleep 

With golden-pistiled petals parted. — 

Now, could befall, — her pouting 
Cheeks anger-red — from sprouting 

Bock-mosses some white wildwood dream might leap. 



THE LOG-BRIDGE. 



T*p AST month, where the low log-bridge is laid 
*%£ O'er the woodland brook, in the belts o' the shade, 
To the right, to the left pink-packed, was made 

A gloaming glory of scented tangle 
By the bramble-roses deep — that wade 
High-heaped on the sides— when they bloomed to fade, 
And wilting powdered the ruts, and swayed 

To the waters beneath loose loops of spangle : 
Wide eyes of buff which the pale lids braid, 

Murmurous-soft with the bees a-wrangle. 

II 

This month — 'tis August — the lane that leads 
To the bramble-bridge runs waste with weeds, 
That lift bright saffron. Light satin seeds 
Of thistle-fleece blow by you hazy ; 

(83) 



81 Till: LOO-BRIDGE. 



Starry the hedge with the thousand bredea 
Of the yellow daisy like sweet-eyed creeds 
Peacefully praying; -now by you Bpeeds 

A butterfly sumptuous with mottle and lazy. 
Dull yellowish-white, where the blue-bird pleads, 

Tin 1 sumach's tassel tilts low as the daisy. 

in 
All golden the spot in the noon's gold shine, 
Where the yellow-bird sits with eyes of wine 
And swings and whistles; whore line en line 

In coils of warmth the sunbeams nestle ; 
Where cool by the pool (where the crawfish, fine 
As a shallow's shadow, darts dim) to mine 
The damp creek-clay, with their peevish whine 

Come mason-hornets and roll and wrestle 
Wet halls ^( earth to their breasts, and twine 

Cylindrical nests on the joists o' the trestle. 

IV 

Where the horsemint shoots through the grasses high, 
On tin 1 root-thick rivage that root's, a dry 
Gray knob that bristles with pink, the sigh 

Of crickets is sharp 'neath the dead leaves' bosoms. 



THE LOG-BRIDGE. 85 

At twilight sad you will hear the cry 

Of a passing bird flit twittering by; 

And the frogs' grave antiphons rise and die; 

And here to drink come the wild opossums, 
Where lithe on those roots two lizards lie 

Brown-backed like the bark, or stir the blossoms. 




THE OLD FARM. 

^ORMERED and verandaed cool, 
*** Locust-girdled on the hill, 
Stained with weather-wear and full 
Of weird whisper-, at the will 

Of the sad winds' rise and lull ; 

I remember, stood it there 
Brown above the woodland deep 

In a scent of lavender, 

With slow shadows locked in sleep, 

Or the warm light everywhere. 

T remember how the spring-, 
Liberal-lapped, bewildered its 

Squares of orchard murmuring; 

Kissed with budded pulls and bits, 
Where the wood-thrush came to sing. 

(8(3) 



THE OLD FARM. 87 

Barefoot so at first she trod, 

A pale beggar maid, adown 
The quaint quiet, till the god 

With the seen sun for a crown 
And the firmament for rod, 

Graced her nobly, wedding her — 

Her Cophetua ; and so 
All the hill, one breathing blur, 

Burst in blossom; peachy blow; 
Wonderstricken whiteness pure. 

Seckel, blackheart, palpitant 

Rained their bleaching strays ; and white 
Bulged the damson bent a-slant ; 

Russet-tree and romanite 
Seemed beneath deep drifts to pant. 

And it stood there, brown and gray, 

In the bee-boom and the bloom, 
In the murmur and the day, 

In the passion and perfume,. 
Grave as age among the gay. 



88 THE OLD FARM. 



Good with laughter romped the clear 
Boyish voices 'round its walls; 

Rare wild-roses were the dear 
Girlish faces in its halls, 

Music-haunted year to year. 

Far before it meadows full 

Of green pennyroyal sank ; 
Clover dots like bits of wool 

Pinched from lambs; and now a bank 
Bright of color; and the cool 

Brown-blue shadows undefined 
Of the clouds rolled overhead — • 

Curdled mists that kept the wind 
Fresh with rain and fluting shed 

Song among the valleys kind. 

Where in mint and gipsy-lily 

Ran the rocky brook away; 
Musical among the hilly 

Solitudes its flashing spray, 
Sunlight-soft or forcst-stjlly. 



THE OLD FARM. 89 

Buried in thick sassafras, 

Half-way up the copsy hill, 
Moved some cowbell's muffled brass; 

And the ruined water-mill 
Loomed half-hid in cane and grass. 

I remember; stands it yet 

On the hilltop, in the musk 
Of damp meads, while violet 

Deepens all the dreaming dusk 
Droning over? holy wet. 

With the slightest dew? while low 

One long tear of scarlet gashes, 
Tattered, the broad primrose glow 

Westward, and in weakest splashes 
Lilac stars the heavens sow ? 

Sleeps it still among its roses 

Dewy yellow, while the choir 
Of the lonesome insects dozes ? 

And the white moon drifting higher 
Brightens and the darkness closes — 
Sleeps it still among its roses ? 

7 



AMONG THE KNOBS. 

HRfTHERE is a place embanked with brush 

*? Three wooded knobs beyond, 
Lost in 11 valley where the lush 
Wild eglantine blows blonde. 



Where light the dogwoods earliest 

Their torches of white tires, 
And bee-bewildered east and west 
The red-haws build their spires. 

The wan wild-apples' flowery sprays 

Blur through the misty -loom 
A pensive pink; and by lone ways 
The close blackberries bloom. 
(90) 



AMONG THE KNOBS. 91 

I love the spot: A shallow brook 

Slips from the forest near, 
Bird-haunted ; flags in many a nook ; 

Its rustling depths so clear 

The minnows glimmer where they glide 

Above its rocky bed — 
A long, dear, boyhood's brook, not wide, 

Which has its sparkling head 

Among the rainy hills, and drops 

By four low waterfalls — 
Wild music of an hundred stops — 

Between the leafy walls 

Against the water-gate, that hangs 

A rude portcullis dull 
Of wan-washed wood, whose clumsy fangs 

The cress makes beautiful. 

The bright green dragon-flies about 

The seeding grasses swim ; 
The streaked wasps worrying in and out, 

Dart fretfully and slim. 



92 AMONG THE KNOBS. 



I lore in the moon-gold moss that glows 

Like jets oi' moonlight, dies 
The weak anemone; and blows 

801110 flower loss blue than skies. 

And, where in April tenderly 

The dewy primrose made 
A thin, peculiar fragrance, wo 

In the pellucid shade 

Found wild strawberries half-abnd ; 

In May, long berries fresh 
II nng- pallid-pink as wood-bird's blood 

On many a trailing mesh. 

Once from that hill a farmhouse mid 
Large orchards— cozy brown 

In lilacs and bravo roses hid — 
With picket-fence looked down. 

O'er ruins now the roses guard; 
The plum ami seckel-pear 

And apricot rot on the sward 
Their wasted ripeness there. 



AMONG THE KNOBS. 

But when low huckleberries blow 
Their waxen bells I 'II tread 

Those dear accustomed ways that go 
Dim down that orchard ; led 

To that avoided spot which seems 
The haunt of vanished Springs ; 

Lost as the hills in drowsy dreams 
Of visionary things. 



GAEGAPHIE. 

Succinct:)- sacra Dianas.— Ovid. 
I 
milKlvK the ragged Bunlight lay 
* Tawny on thick ferns and gray 

On dark waters ; dim hum-, 
Lone and deep, the cypress grove 
Shadowed whisperings and wove 
Braided lights, like those that love 

On the pearl plumes of a dove 
Pale to gleam and glimmer. 

II 
There centennial pine and oak 

Into stormy basses broke ; 

Hollow rocks gloomed slanting 
Echoy ; in dim arcade 

Looming with loose nmss that made 
Sunshine streaks in tatters laid. 
Oft a wild hart, hunt aftayed, 
Pluuged the water panting. 



(94 



GARQAPHIE. 95 



jii 
Poppiea of a sleepy gold 
Mooned the gold-green twilights old 

Of its vistas, making 
Fuzzy puffs of flame. And pale 
Stole some slim deer down u dale 
Haunting; and the nightingale 
Throbbed not near — the olden tale 

All its hurt heart breaking. 

IV 

There the hazy serpolet, 
Glinting cistus, blooming wet, 

Blushed on bank and boulder; 
There the cyclamen, as wan 
As weak footprints of the Dawn, 
Carpeted the spotted lawn ; 
There the nude nymph, dripping drawn, 

Basked a peachy shoulder. 

v 

In the citrine shadows there 
What tall presences and fair, 

White and godly gracious, 
Hidden where the rock-rose grew, 



% GARGAPHIE. 



Watched through eyeballs of the dew 
Or from sounding oaks, ami knew 
All the mystery of blue 

Heaven vaulted spacious! 

VI 

Guarded that Boeotian 

Valley so no foot of man 

Soiled its silence holy 
With profaning tread — save one. 
The II vantian : A.ct8eon, 
1 [e beheld What god might slum 
Fate, Diana's wrath called on, 

With what magic moly ! 

VII 
Lost it lies, like one who sleeps 
In serene enelian t men t. Keeps 

Beautiful in beamy 
Beauty of its blooms that be 

Wisdoms; hope, its high stars see, 
Near in fountains; deity 
In wise wind words of each tree — 
< Jariraphio the dreamy. 



ROSICRUCIAN. 

i 
'HEN leas of white-blown clover 
Smell thinly of the rain; 
When long drops wrinkle over 
Low Lime-leaves in the lane ; 
Anion-- the dwindling acres 
Whence troop the harvest-makers, 
Tunnel reapers, freckled rakers, 
Wild heart, be wild again. 

Where running trumpet-flowers, 

Elf war-horns red us brass, 
The old elm swaying shown-,-, 

Anion- its root-grown grass ; 
Where green the daylight streaming 
Sets all the wild-birds dreaming, 
Between the real and seeming, 

Dim love, what words shall pass? 

(97) 



98 



ROSICRUCIA V. 



When from the mustard fragrant 

Brown boos break rough with gold 
And breezes trailing vagrant 

Spill half the spice they hold; 
When heights begin to glimmer, 
Ami shadows, slipping- slimmer, 
Crouch by the woodland dimmer, 
What secrets shall bo told? 



Where moonbeam-tangled reaches 
A mock-bird tills with moan. 

Ami one fall's breaking- bleaches 
V gray glow down its stone : 

My soul shall wait to meet yon; 

My heart shall hold and heat yon: 

My love shall so complete yon 
That death will not bo known. 



Though of frail mist your members 
That waver faltering white; 

Your eyes dark stars whoso embers 
Grow gradually bright, 



ROSICRUCIAN. 99 



Nbl mine, dim love, to miss you ; 
But mine to clasp and kiss you ; 
Mine well to know this ie you, 
To have you with the night. 

Lone sings the Lonesome cricket ; 

Wet, wood aromaa smell ; 
Deep in the shapeless thicket 

'I he owl the hours doth tell ; 
Strange love, my lips shall name you — 
Though demons i ise to shame you 
In ;i! and blame you — 

Of heaven, my heaven, though came you 

From Heaven or from I [ell. 



L OF C. 



Ills SONG. 



Si NG to me how l pine bo blow 
rhe flower beneath thy lattice low- 
Then wouldst thou cull me, Bweet, and wear 

A captive in lh\ slutnlvrous hair, 

Thv hair? 



to me how 1 yearn to shine 
Yon pearl} Btar aho> e yon pine 
Thou gaxest on 1, of the ^kios, 
Should thus be taken to thine eyes 

ritinr o\ es V 



10 me how 1 M be the bi 
Which vlips the dandelioned leas 
Y\\\ footsteps And 1. of the south, 

M ijfht live :i kiss upon thy mouth, 
Thy mOUth ? 
( 100) 



/// 01 u 



0] 



h Um\ 
To be the burden of 

'I hou ■'■ be 

'I be melody ol 

To 







APOCALYPSE, 



EFORE 1 found you 1 had found 
] — J Of your true eyes the open book 
(Where re-created heaven wound 
It- wisdom with iO in tho brook. 



Ah, when 1 found you. looking in 
Those Scriptures o( your eyes, above 
All earth, o'ersoared earth's vulture, Sin, 
So apotheosized to love. 

Ami searching yet beneath it. saw 
The soul impatient of the sod — 
What wonder then your love should draw 
Mo to tho nearer love of God, 



\0-2 



[LLUSION. 

P BAVE loved beauty but to find it mortal— ■ 
^ All dearest things are born but for a tear; 
I have loved life whose cold hand points a portal, 
That near, is never near. 

I have loved men and learned we are not brothi 
<) brother blindness that must end in painl 
I have loved women, more than all the others, 
A nd round them false and vain. 

ira my keblahe of devotion ; 
Prayed for attainment and remained a clod: 
Strange goda have worshiped wildly while the ocean 
Told of no god but God. 

Then in myself, all world beliefs laid level, 

I -'arched, and found a. little jealous du t 

Hiding a tiny jewel — Ah! the evil! 

That soiled the soul with Int. 

( 103 I 



DUTY AND LOVE. 

I 
T^CIIAT makes thee beautiful, 
^-^ Answer, ah, answer? — 
"It is that dutiful 
Souls are all beautiful: 

'Tis that romance or 
Glamour of spirit 
Hearts of high merit 
Of Heaven inherit — 

Hast thou an answer?" 

II 
What makes thee loveable, 
Answer, ah, answer? — ■ 
"Love; for, thereof, able 
Souls are made loveable: 

'Tis that which chance or 
Birth, of the woman 
Gives to illumine 
That which is human — 
Hast thou an answer?" 
( 104 ) 



St?ape5 ar?d Styadou/s. 



( 105 ) 



BLODEUWEDD. 

OT to that demon's son, whom Arthur erst 
For prophecy, at old Caerleon durst 
Grace wisely, Merlin, — not to him alone 
Did those lost learnings of high magic, done 
With mystery of marvels, then belong: 
Taliesin, now, hath told us in a song 
Of one at Arvon, Math of Gwynedd, lord 
Of some vague cantrevs of the North, whose sword 
Beat back and slew the monarch of the South 
Through puissance of Gwydion. 

His mouth 
Was wise with wondrous witchcraft; for his word 
Wrought the invisible visible and stirred 
Eyes with a seeming sight that, so deceived, 
The mind conceited shapes and shapes believed; 

(107) 



108 BLODEUWEDD. 



Wrought flesh creations from air elements, 

1" . let him wish, the winds were wan with tents, 
And brassy blasts of war from bugles brayed, 
And shocking hosts of battle clanged and swayed, 

at a word were naught. With little care 
Steeds rich-accoutered and pied hounds, as fair, 
Limber and wiry as the dogs of Earth, 
From forest fungus fashioned and gave birth 
To lives o( twice twelve hours, wherein they moved 
jtences, and form perfections proved. . . . 

Now to Caer Dathyl Math through Gwydion, — 

The son of Don, — the daughter dark of Don, 

The silver-circled Arianrod, had brought; — 

A uithern rose of beauty, friendship sought 

For full espousal. When the maiden came 

Said Math, "Art thou a virgin?" like a flame, 

Mantling, her answer angered, " Verily, 

I know not other, lord, than that 1 be!" 

So wrought he then through magic that the form 

Of her boy baby chubby en her arm 

Cuddled and cooed. " A Mary ? yea ! " laughed Math, 

"Forsooth, another Mary!" then in wrath 



BLODEUWEDD. 109 



Set harsh hands on the babe and fiercely flung 
Far in the salt sea; but the hard winds clung 
Fast to the Elfin and the lithe waves swept 
Him safely strandward dry. Some fishers kept 
Him thus unseaed and christened Dylan, Fair 
Son of the Wave, and fostered him with care. 

Nor really was this hers. But Gwydion, 
Brother to Arianrod, before the sun 

Had time to touch it with one golden glaive, 

Some dim small body on the castle pave 

In raven velvet seized ; and hiding he 

Stole this from court to subtly raise and be 

A comely youth. In time to Arianrod 

Brought, swearing by the rood and blood of God 

This was his sister's son. Quoth she, "More shame 

Dost thou disgrace tier with to mix our name 

With this dishonor, brother, than myself!" 

And waxing wroth hurst Gwydion, "The elf 

Is thine, God's curse!" and daggered her with looks. 

And she in turn waxed fiery saying, "Books 

Of wisdom I have read as well as thou ! 

And, yea, upon thy folly, listen, now 



110 BLODEUWEDD. 

I lay a threefold destiny: The first— 
Until r name him, nameless is he! -Cursed 
Be they who give him arms with palsy! nor 
Shall he boar such until I arm for war: 
Ami lastly, know, however high his birth, 
He -hall not wed a woman of the Earth, 
Malignity! to shame mo with thy sin!" 
So passed into her tower ami locked her in. 

But Gwydion, departing with the youth, 

Sware ho would compass her; it' not through truth, 

Through wiles of learned magic. Ami ho wrought 

So that unbending A.rianrod was brought 

To name the lad. Again ho fashioned that. 

Through boisterous enchantments fierce, ho gat 

Her to give arms. But then, not for his life, 

Howbeit, might ho get him to a wife. 

Persisting desperate, anon the thing 

Wrought in him blusterous as an early Spring, 

Xow Llew the youth was named. Ami Gwydion 
Made his complaint to Math, the mighty son 
Of Mathonwy. 



BLODEUWEDD. u 



Said he: " I ''-pair not. We 
By charms, illusions and white sorcery 
Will seek to make-for have we not such powers? 
_A woman for him out of forest flowers." 

And so they 'toiled together one wan night, 

When the gray moon hung low and watched, a white, 

Wild witch's face behind a mist. They took 

Blossoms of briers by a bloomy brook 

Shed from the womby hills; and phantom blooms 

Of yellow broom that filtered faint perfumes; 

Thin, rare, frail primroses of rainy smell, 

Weak pink, cirque-clustered in a glow-worm dell; 

Wild-apple sprigs that tipsied bells of blaze 

And in far, haunted hollows made a haze 

Of ghostly, scattered fragrance; plaintive bine 

Of hollow harebells hoary with the dew ; 

Kingcups as golden as the large, low stars ; 

And lilies which, rolled limpid in long bars 

Like sleepy starshine, swayed aslant and spilled 

Slim nectar-cups of musk the rain had chilled; 

Sweet, wildwood wind-flowers, paly, slight of gloss, 

Dimpling rough oak-roots bulging the green moss; 



112 BLODEUWEDD. 



Lone on the elfin uplands pulled the buds, 

That burned like spurts of moonlight when it suds 

The rainy clouds, of blossoming meadow-sweet, 

And made a woman tall; from crown to feet 

Complete in beauty. One far lovelier 

Than Branwen daughter of the gray King Llyr; 

Than that dark daughter of Leodegrance, 

The stately Gwenhevar. And old romance 

Dreamed in the open Bibles of her eyes; 

Music her motion ; and her speech, soft sighs 

Of an acknowledged love for love again ; 

Yet in her face no least suggested pain, 

But hope, high heart, and happiness of life. 

So Blodeuwedd they named her and as wife — 
Fair aspect of wild flowers baptized with dew — 
Gave that next morning to the happy Llew. 



THE LADY OF VERNE. 



TJ ADY VALORA'S villa at Verne, 

*^* With its old, low terraces staired with stone; 

A statue here and a fluted urn 

Under fragrant limes; and the land so lone 

With the calling of rooks when the west was a-hurn, 

My Lady of Verne was tall and fair — 
With lochs dark hazel, and face white rose; 
Why, her long gray eyes and her noble hair, 
Her slender lips and her classic nose, 
Made song of my heart like a beautiful air. 

Down the orchard aisles to a dingled stream 
One spring we strolled ; and the treey hills 
In the south loomed blue as a fairy dream; 
And I found for her hair dim daffodils — 
Thin cups of gold full of moonish beam. 

(113) 



11 \ THE LADY OF VERNE 

For her bosom a spray From a hawthorn tree 
1 tore with words as dead as this tongue; 

Ami the boos in the bloom boomed honeyly 
While she laughed at my words and merrily sung, 

1 

What to her was th • ive 

0( desperate hope In a soul distressed! 

Love at her feet cringed dumb as a shn 

Her lips by a laugh more golden were pressed 

Yet her smile waned away like the light Erom a wav 

Ami we walked In the sunset, So to her home 
w e came by the oast, slow settling, drear 
With its five taint stars and a crescent o( foam, 
The twilight dusked. Ami we hoard by the mere 
One distant bittern boom and drum. 

Can a heart be serious so and gaj 
What a riddle unread was she to me! 
When 1 kissed her fingers and turned away, 
"Valora o( Verne"* why, what cared she 
Though a soft light made her eyes more gray! 



THE LADY OF VERNE. 

Though he lingered to watch me, that might be ! 
A glim moonbeam in the woodbine-maze, 
Whi a I turned, wan her mu ry, 

bite that vanished in haunting haze 
My I /ady of Sterne, why, whal <■■■ 



. i he A ui limn had long lain bound 
The I,.* ■< i of A iit.iiiiui had Ion;- been pa 
An'l the lat< I nows fell, deepening around, 
Ari'l I he eery hea vena scowled ovei 
A n'l alone in her room Valora I found. 

Sad and lovely. The young Earl's bride, 
A queen of dream -. ;it an 01 iel leant, 
Pale as i!i'- budi on her warm hair tied; 
The dented satin, flung tormily, benl 
Like beat n n'lver rippling wide. 

I mark, as I steal to her - ide, two I 
< in her beautiful ■ 
As large and pure as t he pearl he w< i 
On her lace-looped b net ities: 

80 I ay what I know, "Then, it appears" • . . 



116 THE LADY OF VERNE. 



And stop with, it seems, my soul in my eyes, — 
"That you are not happy, Valora of Verne. 
I* there that at your heart which— well, denies 
These mocking mummeries? True and stern 
Is the voice of the soul that never lies. 

''Words of the Lips are not words of the heart! 
For hearts have a speech so different from speech, 
So secret, Valora, too holy for art! — 
Never mistaken.!— and men could not preach 
-Mine from that love yours said me a part. 

" All ! all !— my ( tod !— and my all!— now life 

Is what to me and — to you?" She turned 

With a hard look saying, "Coward! his wife! 

His wife! do you hear? — Did you dare? Biadlspurned 

Your love? — Yet I loved you . . . coward!" — A knife, 

As she wheeled and caught at a cabinet — 
A fang of scintillant steel, keen, cold- 
Fell savagely twinkling; some curio nut 
Among Asian antiques bronze and gold, 
Mystical, curiously graven and set. 



THE LADY OF VERNE. 117 

"My Bactrian dagger 1 the prick of which 
Through its ancient poison is death! ... If so — 
If you think you must love me — then" . . . and rich 
Was the speech of her eyes in their poignant glow, 
And my .soul met bers at it- passionate pitch. 

And I whispered " Yes," for my bruin had thought 
A wild thought through — " why, life were a hell 
To us so asunder ! " And the blade [caught 
With no nervous hand and she leaned and — well, 
bbed her throat in its hollow, so naught 

Might dabble its beauty. She tottered there 

To a carven chair. I studied the blade 

With its white-gold handle thick with the glare 

Of devils in jewels, wildly inlaid; 

Then my breast to the. poisonous point rent hare. 

One stain of blood on her throat and one 
Dark red on my heart. And I held her and stood 
Where :i buhl clock ticked; and the sinking sun 
Through the dull, sad eve burst banked with blood 
And fell— One moment and all were done. 



US 



THE LADY OF \ 



"When the young Earl comes," she whispered," He 
He will leave us together. How deep the uij 
Do you hear the dance and the revelry 
■• 5fes ; ami your cheeks are wet and white, 

«1 ! so ivM ! Valora, to me." 






'I HE 8UCC1 BA, 

III A VE dn am wh< re I believe 
I am prince o\ ome dim pala( 
One at mora □ 

I , i , ight tl"- Lady Alice 
Long, long dead, who wa my bi ide ; 
And she glower al 

|';ily :r, :i. <y: l.il chall 

Filled with fire diamond dy< d 

I have dn am and I i hall <ii<- 
Wond< ring on them. I n m< mb< i 

In my l< ' p h< 
l;, .. in' with it mournful ember 

Qp 

Alabaster to the v.. 
Oho tly in thi ovember, 

And my i oul i i all hei la 

i 1 1 9 \ 



120 THE SUCCUBA. 



Walls of darkness and of night 
Slit with casements tall of fire, 

Ruby or a glowing white: 

As the wind breathes lower, higher, 

Round the towers spirit tin 

Whisper, and a moaning sings 
In the strings of each huge lyre 

Set upon its four chief wings. 

In its corridors at tryst 

Flame-eyed phantoms meet. Its sparry 
Halls are misty amethyst, 

Battlemented 'neath the starry 

Dome of death that none has known; 
Heavens with the green stars sown 

Low and largo, and all their harry 
Beams blown on an ocean lone. 



Can it bo a witch is she 

Or a vampire, who is whiter 

Than the spirits of the 

For my dreams inform her brighter 



THE SUCCUBA. 125 

Than the faint foam-blossoms. Lo, 
All this passion is my foe ! 

For her love lies tighter, tighter 
On my heart than utter woe. 

I but vaguely know I live 

Two pale lives of sweetest sorrow, 

Where my love must give and give 
Passion, that its soul must borrow 

Of the living, to the dead, 

To the dear unhallowed; 

And should I be death's to-morrow, 

If I knew I could not dread. 

Lo, my dreams have drowned that place 
In all moon-white flowers: lilies 

Like the influence of a face; 
Knots of pearly amaryllis; 

Cactus-bulks with pulpy blooms 

Puffy in the silver glooms; 

White each hill with daffadillies 

O'er the olive ocean looms. 

9 



126 77//: SICCFBA. 



But to me their fragrance seems 
Poison; and their Lambent luster, 

Spun of twilight and of dreams, 
Poison; and each frosty cluster 

Hides a serpent's fang. And J, 

Longing at an oriel high, 

In my soul make ache to muster 

Heart to breathe of them and die. 

Then I feel big eyes as bright 

As the sea-stars. Gray with glitter 

Swims unto me, wound with light, 
She. Deep hangings sway and flitter 

Loves and deeds of Amadis 

Darkly worked. And lo, this is 

She the night brings, sweet and bitter. 

With a bliss that is not bliss. 



Still I kiss her eyes and hair; 

Smooth her tresses till their golden 
Glimmer sparkles. Everywhere 

Shapes of strange aromas, holden 



THE SUCCUBA. uf 



Of her halls, about us troop 
Foggy forms, that float and stoop 
On slow swells of rolling, olden 
Music odorous loop in loop. 

Yet I see beneath it all,— 
All this sorcery,— a devil, 

Beautiful and grandly tall, 

Broods with shadowy eyes of evil. 

And I know, each lilac morn, 

In that land a cactus-thorn, 
Monstrous on some lonely level, 

Blooms for her J may not scorn. 

I have dreams where I believe 
I am prince of some dim palace; 

One at morn my Genevieve 
Is at night the Lady Alice 

Long, long dead.— Who may be brave 

Held and haunted of the grave? 
When through some unholy malice 

One a prince is and a slave. 



HIS FIRST MISTRESS. 



IIEIUN OF I oils \iy 



j"T^l [RICE od the lips and twice on the eyes 

" I kiss you or ever 1 kiss your bosom — 

When love is true would you have it wise, 
Wise as the world goes? No; 't is a blossom 
Lovely and wise since it 's lovely ; content 
To live or to die as its folly pleases: 
Life is a rose and the rose's Bcent — 
Love, that 's born with the rose nor ceases. 

If 1 tell you the Marquis will die, will you smile,? 
Ami laugh when he's dead? — This powder, my lily, 
That shows like an Innocent sweet In the phial — 
l>o not touch it! breathe distant 1 a poison Bxili 
CJsed a life to discover, its formula left 
! 128) 



HIS FIRST MISTRESS. 129 

To a pupil, (well worthy the master!) the prudenl 
And pious Sainte Croix. Him, of teacher bereft, 
'I he devil, I deem, mu f have tab n a student. 

Quite a dealer In death. And on 

That those difficult drug of hi laboratory 

Demanded. I visited ; found him ; his face 

Bent over a ublimate, safe from the ho 

Light particle , ma ked with a mask of fine gla 

J told him your danger, Marie, and expounded 

Our pa sion, despair, with many an "ah 

II< smiled ivhile a paste in a mortar he pounded. 

Three fistfuls of Loui he'd do it, he said: 

A delicate dust, gum, liquid and metal 

Crushed, crucibled — •" Stay ! tie this mask on your 

l)f;i<l ; 

You see, but a grain on this fuchsia's \>< tal 
Ha shriveled and blasted it. -look how it. dries. 
A perilous pulver . . . could Satan make better? . . . 
To mis with that present of perfun dies, 

And who is the wiser? Or, say, In a letter 



1 30 HIS Fl lis T H I IS 1 R ESS. 



"To the husband of her who has smiled on you since 
Another grows bald?" — And he poured in a bottle 
The subtlty. — "Bah! be he beggar or prince, 

If he kiss but the seal the venom will throttle." 
"Well," I thought, "I will test ere I risk." Slyly 

drew 
My stilleto; approached to the bandlet, that tightly 
Supported his mask, its keen point— it was true: 
Where it cracked he fell dead— he but breathed of it 

lightly. 

Your letter is sealed and is sent. You are mine. 
By now he has broken the wax ... If there ilutters 
Some dust in his nostrils, yes, who will divine 
That this has assassined? Our alchemist utters 
No word! — you are happy? and I?— oh, I feed 
That I love and am loved. — The tidings comes heavy 
To-night to the King; you are there; you will reel — 
Will faint! — Now away to the royal levee. 



BEFORE THE BALL. 

tS to my soul -'tis a pathos of passion; 
A- to my Lift — has a flavor of sin. 
What would you have when such is the fashion 
Was and will be of the world we are in? 
Yes, I have loved — and have you? have you reckoned 
The cost of a love? — [ can tell you: as much 
A a soul — Mine, a woman's: [learned it that second 
I knew that T loved, and to death mine were such. 

And his love? 1)U t dissembled that ardor's pure beauty. 

I endured undeceived nor pretended ; and gave 

All that the wisdom demanded — my duty, 

For I loved. And the world -why, I was his -lave, — 

Should it worry I pleased him? Propriety sorrowed, 

Uprolling her ey< e as occasion ; she— well, 

A lie overglossed with a modesty borrowed. 

And r was hut woman, the end was — I fell. 

( 131 | 



132 BEFORE THE HALL 



Through love? No; the woman; that visible woman 
Men usually know. Heart knows how we know 
Of its innermore beauty, the luminous human 
Distinction that's character! — Look at the glow 
Of the moon that is now; 'tis the slenderest sickle 
Of ray. So the flesh gleams the feeblest line 
Of light, that's the soul; should the sun of Love 

prickle, 
Mark, the whole glory of woman divine. 

Yes, 1 know how it is. I have glimmered my season 
Prolonged of suffusion. You think it is strange 
That I let you, say — love me? but why not ? my reason 
Requires illusions. They give me that change 
Which quiets remembrance. Youkissme, 1 wonder; 
When you say, " You are beautiful," well, am I glad 
If I laugh? you declaim on my form," Bow no blunder 
Of nature discords," it' I sigh am 1 sad? 

How you stare at my eyes! and my lips — must they 

languish 
For kisses to redden? My eyes must be bright 
As this jewel I drown in my hair, with its anguish 



BEFORE Til hi BALL. 133 



Of tortuous fire thai quivers, to-night. 

Tears? may be. — This showy ? that silly white flower 

Wore, lovelier? for me its simplicity — no! 

The gem I prefer to tli' exotic. The hour 

Has struck: lam ready: my fan: lei in 



v. 



MASKS. 

CucvMus doii facto monachum. 

ijs [VE it down as you have spok< 



■** You could live it ere you know 
What love was — "a bauble broken 
Foolish of a thing untrue."— 
You, Viola, with your beauty 
Cloistered die a nun! No; you — 
You must live, and 't is your duty. 

There's your poniard; for the second 
In this tazza dropped; the Mood 
On it scarcely hard. I reckoned 
Happily that hour wo stood 
There beside your palace stairway. 
Cowled with my Franciscan hood, 
When I said there was a bare way. 
( 184 ) 



MASKS. 135 



In the transept there I found it — 
Your revenge. I saw him wild 
Stalking to the church; around it 
Dogged him marking how he smiled 
In the moonlight where he waited. 
When the great clock beating dialed 
Ten, I knew he would be mated. 

Heaven or the deed's own devil! — 

Hardly had his sword and plume 
Vanished in the dusk, than, level 
On the long lagune, did loom 
into moonlight-woven arches 
Her slim gondola ; all gloom ; 
One swart gondolier; no torches. 

-Shadowy gondolas kept bringing 

Revellers; and far the night 

Rang with merriment and singing.— 

From tin- imbricated light 

Of i he oar-vibrating water, 

Gliding up the stairway, white, 

Velvet-masked — the count's own daughter. 



136 MASKS. 



Quickly met her: whispered, "Flora, 

Gaston. — Mia, till they go 

One brief moment here, Siora. 

She'll perceive us; she below 

With the duchess diamonds sparkling 

Round the inviolable glow 

Of her threat— Must pass us darkling 



U ' 



T is Viola!" — And I drew her 
In the old neglected pile — 

Under her close mask I knew her, 
By the chin, the lips, the smile. 
Through the marble-foliated 
Window fell the moonrays. While 
All the maskers passed we waited. 

I had drawn the dagger. Turning 
Called her by her name. Some lie 
Of a passion sighed; her burning 
Cheek on mine when, wavering by, 
In the flare his form bejeweled 
Gleamed. My very blood burned dry 
With the hate his presence fueled. 



MASKS. 13' 



My revenge: Up-pushing slightly 
Cowl, the mask fell and revealed 
Haiku as the poniard whitely 
Flashed. The hollow dark re-pealed 
One long shriek but once repeated. 
Yet, I stabbed her thrice. She reeled 
Dead. I thought of you. The heated 

Horror on my hands, I tarried 

Like the silence. Drawn aside 

On her face the mask hung married 

T<> her camphor-pallor. Wide 

Eyes with terror — stone. One second 

I regretted, then defied 

All remorse. Your beauty beckoned, 

And I left her. You had pointed 
Me this way. I walked the way 
Clear-eyed and ... it has anointed 
Us fast lovers ? will you say 
Yes? or for no love go nun it? 
Let this cowled love grow gray? — 
Learn to hate him, you've begun it. 



HAUNTED. 



^^^TTHOUT a moon when night comes on 
* * There is a sighing in its trees 
As of sad lips that no one sees; 
And the strange forest dwindling, large 
Beyond fenced fields, seems shadowy drawn 
Into its shadows. Faint and wan 
By the westeriaed portico 
Stealing I go ; 

Through gardens where the weeds are rank; 
Where, here and there in patch and bank, 
Rise clumped close spiarees whose blooms 
Seem dots of starlight; and the four 
Syringas sweet heap, powdered o'er, 
Thin flower-beakers of perfumes; 
And the dead flowering-almond tree 
(138) 



HAUNTED. 139 

Once maiden-pink. Still bower on bower 
The roses climb in blushing flower — 
And from the roses shall I see 
Her sad, sad eyes shine like the flowers 
That nestle dew-drops hours on hours, 
Wistful, as if reproaching me? 

II 

When midnight comes it brings a moon : 

A scent is strewn 

Of honey and wild-thorns broadcast 

Beneath the stars. When I have passed 

Under dark cedars, darker pines, 

To beds of red petunias, 

Cornflower and blue columbine; 

Azaleas mauve half-choked with grass, 

Wide peonies like wisps of shine; 

'Neath cloying honey-suckle vines, 

Piled deep and trammeled with the gourd 

And morning-glory; drained the hoard 

Of rich aroma ; oft have heard 

The plaintive note of some lost bird 

Trickle through night, awakened where, 



140 HA UN TED. 



'Neath its thick lair of twisted twigs, 
The jarring and incessant grigs 
Hummed. Scent-drugged so, the tepid air 
Made all my soul as heavy as 
Dew-poppied grass. 

in 
And when the moon rose flushed and full,— 
Like some sea-seen hesperian pool, 
A splash of gold through tangling trees, — 
There came slow sighings in the trees 
As of sad lips that no one sees. 
And when all in a mystic space 
Her orb swam, amiable white, 
Right in yon shattered casement high, 
Made of a whisper and a sigh 
I thought her face 

Formed in a mist of tears; so slight, 
So beautiful, its pensive grace 
Was like an olden melody. 

IV 

I know long-angled on its floors, 
Where windows greet the anxious East, 



HA UNTED. 141 

The .moonshine pours 

White squares of glitter and, at least, 

Gives glimmer to its moaning halls: 

Sleep-tapestried, dim corridores 

Wake whispers; by its wasted walls 

Stand shadows; and where streaked dusts lay 

Their, undisturbed, deep gray, 

Walk vision-footed. I below 

Hear the wind's sighings come and go 

Through one great buckeye near her room. — 

Ah ! know I not how those broad flues . 

Of her old home the winds make hoarse? 

Their deep throats growl and boom 

With wafts that slink through avenues 

Of summer, singing in their course 

Where blossoms drip, to swing them back. 

Oh! how I fear it! and the crack 

Dry, warping stairs give; and the black 

That drapes each room the mind informs 

To fling from closets phantom arms! . . . 

V 
I see her face beseeching pressed 
To the ruged, oaken floor; distressed, 
Pinched in her blind and praying hands; 

10 



142 HA TINTED. 



So desolate with anguish ! wrenched 
With all remorse mind understands: 
Weak, writhen ; still I scoffed and fled 
So unrelenting! when again 
Back soul-forgiving stole, fast-clenched 
In staring eyes all the hard pain, 
Cramped to dilation, with a groan 
Found — huddled hush — as stone as stone, 
Her white and dead ! . . . 

VI 

Yes, there is moan 
In all its crannies and lean shades 
Make melancholy rooms where braids 
The lacy moonlight. Slow have flown 
The years! the years! and I have known 
An anguish and remorse far worse 
Than usual life's, and live, it seems, 
Because to live is but a curse. . . . 

VII 

There lies their burying-place; that ground 
Arched o'er with rusty iron; stone, 



HA UNTED. 143 



Mossy, squares in a spot for dreams. 
Wild just the same; its roses waste 
Limp, placid petals; and here some 
Lie loose like puffs of foam 
On bold unhealthy weeds; displaced, 
Strew wiltings here my feet around. 
Mad roses and mad thorns. Here moan 
In Autumn noons gray wood-doves, and 
The sad days slumber bland. 




UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. 

"gjOW I love you! do you know 
*®l That my Love anticipated, 

Years ago, your love and waited 
Fearful of no No? . . . 

Dry with heat and hot with hay, 

Where yon strip of daisied hollow 
Shady, circling beeches follow 

Shall we wile away 

What half hours the daylight hath?— 
See, the hardy harvest makers 
Straighten, reapers red and rakers, 

O'er the last mown swath. 

Like a gold flower falls the sun ; 

Tenuous brightness all the heaven 
By the subtle weaver, Even, 

One rich weft is spun .... 

(144) 



UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. 145 

Why, I loved you from the time— 

You remember, do you not?— 

It was in your orchard-plot, 
I was reading rhyme 

No! but reading; and 't was thus : 
" By the blue Trinacrian sea, 
Far in pastoral Sicily 
With Theocritus," 

When you asked I told you that 

Awkwardly; for you had found 
Me long-lounged upon the ground 

Drowsily a-chat 

With the sage— Boccaccio. 

And I thought Lauretta grew 

Tall before me; and when you 
Came upon me so, 



Thought it was she: so the book 

Old Decameron in calf, 

In the weeds tossed with a laugh, 
And arose to look 



146 UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE. 

In Lauretta's eyes and thus — 

Found them yours. Well, was I red, 
When the tome's name asked, I said, 
"It?— Theocritus." 

You had come for cherries; these 
Ardently I climbed for while 
You encouraged with a smile 

Me who sought to please. 

Ah, love, two short years agone! — 
I shall ne'er forget how you 
In that dainty dress of blue 

Muslin— No? — A lawn?— 

While my hand unsparingly 

In your apron's sag, red-stained, 
Rich the juicy ripeness rained, 

Looked beneath that tree. 

And I asked you — for, you know, 
To my eyes those serious eyes 
Held such true philosophies! — 

If you 'd read Rousseau. 



UNDER THE (ill KEN WOOD TREE. 147 



"His Confessions?" — "No." — "A chance 
Somewhat similar in June, 
At the castle quaint of Toune, 
Over there in France, 

"Him befell and"— well, was it 

Gallant then, you higher dressed, 
Dropping cherries on your breast 
To indulge his wit ? 

May I kiss those lips that glow? — 

Look, the golden gleam has narrowed 
To one rent of rose, deep-arrowed 

Yonder — let us go. 



REVISITED. 

i 
PLIFTED darkness and the owl-liffht breaks, 



^ Scuds the wild land pursuing patch with patch, 
As when deep camomile a swift wind shakes. 
How clumsily I raised the crazy latch ! . . . 
So. — When yon black bulk, light-absorbing, rakes 
Again the moon's bald disk- 
Out; and the storm may snatch 
Again wet hair pulled lank with wind and rain 
Two hours since. — There sweeps the beams again 
A dark cloud-besom from the ragged plain . . . 
Now! . . . Soul, be thine the risk! . . . 



Close to the fellside hugs the bramble hollow 
Whining with wind, a pausing wind that grieves 
(148) 



REVISITED. 149 



Through the one crippled ash, whose nervous leaves, 

Sleep-worried, rattle wooden as the Lips 

Of dead men kissing. There a gnarled vine slips 

Up a humped, cloven rock, that seems to wallow 

A gorgon head of ugly writhings; heav< - 

When, heaped abruptly on it, flare! 

Burst rain and tempest-glare. — 

This fled, I follow 

A thorny slip of path until 

Is passed the storm-scarred hill. 

in 
Shall I not then be breathless, sinking sense, 
For ghastlier yet to come ?— No ! sterner strength 
Is in my soul!— Beyond the hill the dense, 
Dead wood remains and then — that livid length 
Of mooning waters spectral and immense 
With sullen storm and night. 
There, if the ghoulish wind — 
Which knows well as I know how I have sinned; 
— Will cease to curse me, wakeful in its spite, 
Disturbed with horror only of my soul, 
I'll find among cramped reeds, the storm has thinned, 



150 REVISITED. 



His wide white eyes,, metallic in the light 
Of the impassive moon : In gusty roll 
Of washing ripples, webby, slippery locks 
Dabbling and dead : Or wedged among sharp rocks, 
Wild-pinched and water-strangled white, 
His faded face that mocks. 






LOST LOVE. 

LOVED her madly. For — so wrought 
Young Love divining isles of Truth 
Large in the central seas of Youth — 
Love will be loved," I thought. 



Once when I brought a rare wild-pink 
To place among her plants, the wise, 
Still guerdon of her speaking eyes 

Said more than thanks, I think. 

Oh, you frail Marguerita! oh, 

Weak woman in the woman ! You 
Speak! can such hearts be all but true 

To hearts that love them so ! 

She loved another. Ah ! too well 
I have the story in my soul! — 
A weary tale the weary whole 

Of how she loved and fell. 

( 151 ) 



152 L0S1 LOVE. 



I loved her so ! . . . Remembering of 
My mad grief then, I wonder why 
It is such griefs grow dull and die 

While lives still live and love 

Strange, is it not? For grief was dear 
To me as she once. A regret 
It is now; just to make eyes wet 

And lift a big lump here. 

Yet, had she lived as dead in shame 

As now in death, love would have used 
Pride's pitying pencil and abused 

The memory of her name. 

This makes me thank my God, who led 
My broken life in sunlight of 
This pure affection, that my love 

Lives by her being dead. 



LYANNA. 

f *fiHE Summer came over the southeru ocean, 

*■ Girdled with tire, tiaraed with light; 
Laugh tether eyes and her lips a potion 

To quaff, to kindle, and know its might; 
A shadow that sparkled and flashed; a motion 

Blushed from the uttermost South, and I, 
Of the race of the Sylphs, far over the ocean 

Followed her up the sky. 

* 

An exile aye to the mists that muster, 
Pulsing with pearl and braided with blue, 

Large, luminous ghosts in the hazy bluster 
Low of the winds, where my brother-crew, 

(153) 



154 LYANNA. 



When the day dreams up, in their bright bands cluster, 

Ranges of glitter through cloudy gold, 
At the gates of the Dawn, whose limbs are lustre, 
To wait till her gates unfold. 

And the Summer murmured me "Follow! follow!" 
Whispered and promising whispered, "Love!" — 

Winged with the wings of the sweeping swallow 
Followed I wings of the drifting dove: 

"Love, and a mortal," and fain would I follow; 
"Love, and immortal," my flight was strong; 

"Life!" and my life seemed vain and hollow; 
"Love!" and my heart was song. 

Fleet as the winds are fleet, yea, and fleeter 
Far than the stars, that throbbed like foam 

Through the billowy blue, in musical meter 
Winnowed our wings; and the golden gloam 

.Rang ; and life was a passion completer 
Than Edens of flowers; and faith a lyre 

That sang at the heart to make hope sweeter, 
And hope, a leaping fire. 



LYANNA. 155 



So to the North our wings went maying 

Eesonant ways, till a castle shone 
Gaunt on great cliffs, and the late skies graying 

O'er walls of war and its towers lone. 
A fall of steps to the sea where spraying 

Thundered the breakers ; and terrace and stair, 
Rock o'er the waters, rose rosy and raying 
Deep in the sunset glare. 

A dew drop burns when the dawn lights prickle; 

All of my being tingled to light, 
Blossomed against her tarrying fickle, 

White on the terraced height. 
Beauty that stood like a moon in sickle, 

A slender moon that the winds bleach bleak, 
With its hue like honeys that drop and trickle 
From combs whose wax is weak. 

In dreams I came to her, lo ! as a vision : 
Yea, in her sleep as a dream was wound : 

Of her vestal chastity held : a prison 

Her innermost spirit that took and bound. 



156 LYANNA. 



And her rest I stole, for sleep in derision 

Mocked at my hope for a love that slept : 
And her soul I awakened. Lo ! it had risen 

And answered my soul and wept. 

" Lyanna, I hoop thee with arms of fire! " — 
My words like kisses were sparks that smote, — 

" Lyanna, my life is a single wire, 
Thy love is its single note. 

Hast thou known me thus? Shall it sound entire, 
Full as the angels' who hover and harp 

To the glory that's God, like one silver lyre 

Borne in a beam that is sharp? . . . 

"Gladdened a splendor of rose, a splendor 
Out of the East and the ruby bloom 

Hiding — what, love? Two eyes that are tender? 
Two lips that are sweet, and limbs of perfume 

And fragrant fire ? And who was the sender 
To thee of this lover?" And bending low 

Honeyed my speech as a flower's that, sk nder, 
Buds when the wild stars blow. 



LYANNA. I57 



Seemed all her passionate pulses to quicken ; 

Flowed all her soul to her eyes; but Sleep 
Trembled her voice so it seemed to thicken 

With a love that was sighing to weep:— 
"Yea, I divined thee, yea, and was stricken; 

Light was thy messenger-dove of love. 
Alas! I divined, and I seemed to sicken, 
To perish and pine thereof. 

"White are the clouds, but I knew thee whiter 

Than dazzling domes of the Dawn, I knew 
Bright are God's stars, but thine eves were brighter, 

Brighter and burning blue. 
And my love was thine, though it held thee slighter 

Than breezes bruiting it murmuring by; 
And waited and yearned and the yearning 'tighter 
Than tears in the hearts that die. 

"'Lyanna! Lyanna!' thou calledst ever: 
' Lyanna ! ' A ripple of rays that came : 

'Lyanna, thy name is like light forever." 
And I marveled at my name. 
11 



158 LYANNA. 



For the word was such as if stars should sever 

To an utterance slow of syllabled beams; 
'Lyanna! Lyanna!' I turned, but never 

Informed thee more than my dreams. 

"Thou walkedst a beauty afar; a glitter 

Of gleaming aroma; and I amoan 
Flung thee mine arms; and thy gaze was bitter 

Was calmer and sterner than stone ; 
Avoiding thou passedst in scorn. Oh, fitter 

The hate of all heaven to me than this! 
Yea, scorn! — and I wept, when oh! a flitter 

Of lire, a laugh, and a kiss." . . . 

So I won her then. And the lungs of the thunder 
Trumpeted tempest; and dark the seas 

Lunged at the walls like a roaring wonder, 
And the black rain buzzed like bees. 

"Lyanna, my bride!" And the heavens asunder 
Rushed — chasms of glaring storm where ran 

The thunder's cataracts rolling under — 

For, behold, her race was man. 



LYANNA. 159 



Mine, of the elements. At the moth-white portal 
Of dreams stood the soul with her name. I saw 
Lyanna and said, " Of the utterly mortal 

Mine the eternal lot and law! — 
Thou lovest me?"— "Oh! and I love thee !"— "Immortal 
Is mine through thy love, — for thou lovest!" — 'Tis 
said, 
Behold! when they came in the morn, a-startle 
Were lips with, " Lyanna is dead! " 



% 



GLORAMONE. 

fHE moonbeams on the hollies glow 
Pale where she left me ; and the snow 
Lies bleak as moonshine on the graves, 
Ribbed with each gust that shakes and waves 
Ancestral cedars by her tomb. 

She was more beautiful for death 

In death's dim loveliness. The gloom, 

The iciness that takes the breath, 

The sense of worms, were not too strong 

To keep me from beholding long. 

I stole into the mystery of 
Her old, armorial tomb ; and Love 
Sighed all its romance in my heart : 
(160) 



GLORAMONE. 161 



Soft indistinctness of pale lips 
Breathed on my hair; faint finger tips 
Fluttered their starlight on my brow; 
Vague kisses on my eyes and now, 
Hard on my lips, an aching sense 
Of vampire winning. And I heard 
Her name slow-syllabled— a word 
Of haunting harmony— and then 
Low-throated, "Thou! at last, 'tis thou!" 
And far off shadowy sighs again. 

How madly strange that this should be ! 

For, had she loved me when of earth, 

It were not now so marvelous, 
So marvelous remembering me 

With dead for living love, though worth 
Less, yes, far less to both of us. 
And long I wondered listening there, 
'What deed of mine or thought hath wrought 
This love from hate in after-life 
She giveth back?" and everywhere 
Around my life I thought and thought 
And— nothing; only, how my love 



162 GLORAMONE. 



Had still persisted for her hate 
That made her Appolonio's wife. 
Her hate! her lovely hate!— for of 
Her naught I found unlovely — and 
I felt she did not understand 
My passion, so 'twere well to wait. 

And now I knew her presence near, 
I full in life; yet had no fear 
There in the sombre silence, mark. 
And it was dark, yes, death fill dark : 
But when I slowly drew away 
The pall, death modeled with her face,- 
From face and limbs it fell and lay 
Rich in the dust, — the shrouded place 
Was glittering daggered by the spark 
Of one rare ruby at her throat, 
Red-hearted with star-arrowy throbs 
That made it pulse. And note on note 
The blackness fought with finest sobs 
Of glimmering as of that stone. 
Lustrous and large against her throat 
As her large eyes when they could see. 



GLORAMONE. 163 

And standing- by her corpse alone 
I doubted not her loving me. 

Eed essence of ;ui hundred stars 

In fretful crimson through and through 

Its bezels beat, when, bending down, 

My hot lips kissed her heart. And scars 

Of veiny scarlet and of blue, 

Flame-hearted, blurred the midnight and 

The vault rang; and I felt her hand 

Like fire in mine. And, lo, a frown 

Broke up her faee as gently as 

A breeze that jolts the graining grass 

And spills its rain-drops. When this passed, 

Through song-soft slumber binding fast, 

Slow smiles dreamed outward beautiful, 

And with each smile I heard the dull 

Deep music of her heart and saw, 

As by some necromantic law, 

Faint tremblings of a lubric light 

Float through white temples and white throat; 

And each long pulse was as a note, 

That gathering, like a strong surprise 



164 GLORAMONE. 



With all its happiness, again 
Left her arch lips one wistful smile 
That lingered languidly. Yet pain 
Slept 'neath her eyelids, wasted white, 
Insufferable. . . . Did those eyes 
Grow wide unto my kisses? — Yea, 
They were unsealed! And all the fire 
Of that dark ruby at her throat, 
Arrow by arrow, in them smote; 
And as some harmony entire 
Was she, but how, I can not say. 

And forth into the night I brought 
Her beautiful, and o'er the snow, 
Where moonbeams on the hollies glow, 
I led her. And her feet no print. 
No lightest trace in frost, no dint 
Left of their nakedness. I thought, 
'The moonlight fills them with its glow 
And covers; and the tomb was black, 
Then this strong light — yes!" turning back 
My eyes met hers; and as I turned, 
Flashing centupled facets, burned 



GLORAMONK. 165 



That rod gem at her throat; and I 
Pondered its ardor for a while : 
How came it there, and when, and why? 
Who set it at her throat? again, 
Why was it there? So studying 
I questioned. And a far, strange smile 
Filled all her face, and secret pain 
Gave to her words a bitter ring : 
"Thou ! thou ! alas ! " she said and sighed : 
"And if I am not dead, 'twas thou! 
♦Canst thou remember of it now?" 
"Yes." And she leaned unto me, eyed 
Like some wise serpent that hath still 
Lain all night on wild rocks to stare 
At amaranthine stars until 
Its eyes have learned their glassy glare. 

And then I took her by the wrists 
And drew her to me. Faintly felt 
The sorrow of her hair, whose mists 
Fell twilight-deep and dimly smelt 
Still of the worm and tomb. And she 
Smiled on me witli such sorcerv 



166 GLORAMONE. 



As well might win a soul from God 

To fiends and furies. And I trod 

On white encharitments and was long 

A song and harp-string to a song, 

Love's battle in my blood. And there, 

Kissing her throat, her mouth, her hair, 

I stole the jewel from her throat 

With crafty fingers, to admire 

The witchcraft of its fevered fire. 

It in the hollow of my hand 

A rosy spasm seemed to float 

Red, red with anger : then a brand 

Touched scorching, and I felt it run 

Swift in my pulses like a sun 

Of torrid poison. And I marked 

My palm brim full with blood ; a-glow 

Big drops globed headings, oozing slow, 

Like holly-berries, on the snow. 

Then all the night contracting darked 

Upon me and I heard a sigh, 

So like a moan, 't was as if years 

Of anguish bore it; and the sky 

Swam near me as when seen through tears. 



GLORAMONE. 167 



And she was gone. In ghostly gloom 
Of swart, scarred pines a crumbling tomb 
Loomed like a mist. Carved in its stone, 
Above the grated portal deep, 
Glimmered the legend of her sleep, 
"Death crowned with Death one, Gloramone." 




THE CAVERNS OF KAF. 

[love sensual.] 

/|\NE Benreddin, I have heard, 

^s Near the town of Mosul sleeping, 

In a dream beheld a bird 

Wonderful with plumes of sweeping 
Azure crowned pomegranate-red. 
Seeming near him, while it fled 
Brilliant as a blossom, peeping 
Down the Tigris him it led. 

Following, the creature came 

To a haggard valley, shouldered 
Under peaks that had no name, 

Where it vanished: on the bouldered 
(168) 



THE CAVERNS OF KAF. 169 

Savageness a woman fair 
In a white simarre rose there, 
Beckoning ; around her smouldered 
Pensive lights of purple air. 

Then he found himself in vast 
Caves of sardonyx, whose ceiling 

Domed one chrysoberyl. Blast 
In blast of music, stealing 

From an aural glory, nears; 

Waxing on his eager ears, 

Far recedes in clashes pealing 

Psalteries and dulcimers. 

Wildly sculptured walls did heave 
Slabs of story, where, embattled, 

Warred Amshaspand and the Deev; 
Over all two splendors rattled 

Arms of heaven, arms of hell; 

Forms of flame that seemed to swell 

Godlike : Aherman who battled 

With Ormuzd he might not quell. 



170 THE CA VERNS OF KAF. 

And Benreddin wondered till 

The reverberant rapture drifting, 
Strong beyond his utmost will, 

Rolled him onward where, high lifting 
Pillar and entablature, 
Vast with emblem, yawned a door — 
Valves of liquid lightning shifting 
In and out and up and o'er . . . 

Walls of serpentine deep-domed 
Gray with agate and with beryl ; 

Tortuous diaper crusted foamed 
Rough with jewels; and as peril 

Difficult a colonnade 

Ran of satin-spar to fade 

Far in labyrinths of sterile 

Tiger-eye that twisting grayed. 

Dizzy stones of magic price 

Crammed volute and loaded corbel ; 

Iridescent shafts of ice 
Leapt: with long reechoed warble 



THE CAVERNS OF KAF. 171 



Waters unto waters sang ; 
Curling arc and column sprang 
Into fire as each marble 
Fountain flung its drift that rang. 

And against him, filled with sound, 

Surfs of resonant colors jetted ; 
Sun-circumferences that wound 

Out of arcades crescent-fretted, 
Mists of citron and of roon, 
Lemon lights that mocked the moon, 
Shot with scarlet veined and netted, 
Beating golden hearts of tune. 

Discs of rose-nasturtium; 

Orbs of down-dilating splendor; 
In whose cores did slowly come 

Spots like serpent eyes that slender 
Glared with undecided beams ; 
Panting through dissolving gleams 
Hissings of clear fire tender 
As an houri's breath who dreams. 



172 THE CA VERNS OF KAF. 



Characters of Arabic, 

Cabalistic, red as coral. 
Through vague violet veils did prick 

Changing ; as if fierce at quarrel 
Iran wrote of Turan there 
Hate and scorn, or everywhere 
Wrought swift talisman and moral 
Stern the Afrits might not dare. 

Sunset splendors drew him on 
To a cavern's crystal hollow, 
Hewn of alabaster wan, 

Lucid, whence his gaze could follow 
Far transparent flights in flights 
Rolling, drowned in sounding lights 
Glaucous gold ; he like some swallow 
O'er a lake the morning smites. 

Curved the vault mosaiced in 

With the sensuous limbs of Peries: 

Restless eyes of Deevs and Jinn 

In the walls watched. Unseen faeries 



THE CAVERNS OF KAF. 173 



From the dim dome rained and tossed 
Flowers of fire full of frost, 
Flowers of frost a fire that carries 
Smoldering an incense lost. 

Through the air, in groups of grace, 
Naked odalisques of heaven 

Of Arabian gold did lace 
Flaming censers, spouting seven 

Jets of burning perfume green ; 

To each globe of garnet, seen 

As it swung, new form was given 

Hippogrif or rosmarine. 

Aloes, nard and ambergris; 

Saffron, cinnamon and civet; 
All aromas strange that kiss 

Sense with scent and hold and rivet 
Soul to soul,— that have grown dull 
With life's lassitude,— to lull, 
These with amorous hands did give it, 
Vaporous and beautiful. 
12 



174 THE CAVERNS OF KAF. 

And Benreddin's passive soul, 

To hot eyes intoxicated, 
Ached. And sucking at the whole 

Nipple of flushed Pleasure, sated 
Sucked unsatisfied. It saw 
Cheeks of light without a flaw; 
Breasts of bloom with breathings bated 
Limbs translucent nearer draw. 

Houri eyes and wafted hair 

Brilliant blackness. Then a thunder 
Of hoarse music, that did bear 

Upward, organ ed in the under 
Caverns of the demon world. 
Koran scrolls in glisten curled 
Sparkling by him ; and a wonder 
Of ccerulean mottoes swirled. 

Then one long note made of sighs, — 

A muezzin cry repeated 
Dying downward, — filled with eyes, — 

Melting from him, — passion-heated ; 



THE CA VERNS OF KAF. 175 



Saddening into sounds of spray 
Choral. Then one rocking ray 
Angry burned and angry fleeted 
From intensest blood to gray. 

And, 'tis told, this life was young, 
Young that sun-dawn. When the darting, 

Anguish-throated bulbuls sung, 
Through the silent starlight starting, 

One, a Baghdad merchant, led 

By the white light on its head, 

Found a hoary shadow. Parting 

Hair from face, Benreddin— dead. 




THE SPIRIT OF THE VAN. 

[love ideal.] 

J&i IDSUMMER-NIGHT; the Van ; through night's 
V®^ wan noon, 

Wading the storm-scud of an eve of storm, 
Pale o'er Carmarthen's peaks the mounting moon. 

Hills of Carmarthen ! sullen heights that swarm 
Girdling lone waters as gaunt wizards might 

Crouch guarding some enchanted gem of charm — 
Hills of Carmarthen, that for me each night 

Reecho prayers and pleadings one long year 
Unanswered, made to listening waters white ! — 

The bitter blue of Winter, and the clear 
Calm eyes of girlish Springtide, and the slow 

Brown gaze of languid Summer, and the cheer, 
Bleak-eyed, of tristful Autumn saw me so, 

Unhappy, lost among the hollow hills. 
(176) 



THE SPIRIT OF THE* VAN. 177 

Should any ripple tremble into glow, 

When yeasty moonshine sprays the foam, there 
thrills 
Heart's expectation through fleet veins and high 
" "'Tis she!" each pulse with exultation shrills. 
But 't is not — never ! Once . . . and then would I 

Had lain abolished so beholding! . . . World, 
What sadder hast than beauty that must die? — 

Drugged so with beauty, if some fiend had curled 
Stiff talons through long hair, and twisting tight, 

Scoffed," Burn and be ! " launch into hell had hurled 
Me satisfied to happiness — Love's white 

Bloom heavenizing hell — I, unamerced, 
Shackled with tortures, well might mock hell's spite. 
— Immortal memory of light, I thirst! 
O shining star-stain to what being wove, 

In that I love thee am I so accursed? 
Oh, make me mad with love, with all thy love ! 

Who bruit it to these wilds when midnights gloom 
Storms or drip gold the sibylline stars above ; — 

When thy high favors all heaven's wealth consume, 
Foil to thy potent presence, — and make mad 

Me with a madness sick as from perfume. 



178 THE SPIRIT OF THE VAN. 

Sleep may I not now for soft sleep is sad. 

Cheated of thee, sad are all tearful dreams, 
Haunted by shining sorrowings unclad. — 

Strange, tyrannous hope in life that only seems! 
And seeming hope forever needs must pine 

Hugging this vanishment of form-fixed beams! — 
Though thou be wrought from elements divine, 

And I crass earth exalted, which will think, 
"Since I am thine this makes me hope thee mine," 

Must I, its usual phantom, the still brink 
Of thy lone lake bewilder nightly? Yearn 

Toward that vast vision of a moment's wink? 
When, glassing out great circles, which did urn 

Some intense essence of interior light, — 
As clouds that clothe the moon unbinding burn, 

Ruptured, stands forth her orb, triumphant white, — 
Middle the Van churned foam like feathering fire, 

Dilating ivory. Expectant night 
Tip-toed attentive, fearful to suspire; 

And there up-soared — what glittering majesty? 
What goddess sensed with glory and desire? 

One instant's moiety whirled up to be — 
Love ! and sucked down where burst a brassy black 



THE SPIRIT OF THE VAN. 179 

O'er cloven waves that sighed for ecstacy. 
In multifarious colors swallowed back— 

Pale pearl and lilac, asphodel and rose, 
Tempestuous crocus curling crack in crack. 

And I alone to marvel as who knows 
He is not dead and yet it seems he is, 

Tranced but in body while the spirit glows. — 
O world-sweet face ! brow one wide angel kiss ! 

High immortality!— to image such 
Dance starlight in a lily's loveliness. — 

Waste-bound with moony gold, too gross to clutch 
Such queening chastity, though clear as gum 

On almugs globed and fragrance to the touch : 
And hair — not hair! lithe rays that seemed to come 

Strained through the bubble of a chrysolite, 
Soft quiverings of light that clung and clomb. 

Such left me such ; deep on my soul's quick sight 
Eternal seared ; my life— a stealing shad* 

Scouting the day and ardent of the night: 
A raver to the hoary hills which laid 

Their dumb society in ruth on who 
Shunned all companionship of man and maid: 



180 THE SPIRIT OF THE VAN. 

Boon comrade of the mountain blossoms blue: 
Instructed intimate of trees that they — 

Wise as the legendary world that drew 
Oracles from lips in oaks — might, haply, say 

Prophetic precepts to me : how were won 
A spirit loved to love an one of clay: 

In vain. 

When one day, log-like in the sun 
Beside his cave, where twisted mandrakes rank, 

Puce, hairy henbane coppery blossoms spun, 
Wrinkled as Magic, I a grizzled, lank 

Squat something startled; naught save skin and hair; 
With eyes wherein two demons brewed and drank 

Disputing dreams, which made them shrink or glare ; 
Familiars who, beholding me draw near, 

Croaked lips of famine, lean fangs grinning bare, 
"Woo her with combs of running honey clear, 

And white loaves of a seven-times bolted wheat. 
Climb to thy love and crawl! fear not and fear! " 

This have I done these many months. Repeat 
Vows low-lipped sunk with passionate offering 
Of loaves o'erbolted, honey seven-times-sweet. 



THE SPIRIT OF THE VAN. 181 

Still woe and woe is mine. Now I but bring 

My simple self to-night, ungifted, see; 
Myself unto thee !— Shall this clay still cling 

Clogging fulfillment? thy love's mastery 
Be balked by flesh ? No ! — plunge it deep and fly 

Down to thy mounted throne of majesty! 
Gathering bright limbs one splendid instant — die 

To epochs o' th' elements ! for one kiss 
Forfeit this human immortality! 

Breathe with thy breathing waters, laugh and hiss 
Where lion-tawnyness extending creeps 

Orb into disc there 'round thy templed bliss! 
Dream, dream o'er wave-blue lazuli which heaps, 

Rude-hewn, rough, rugged turret, wall, and dome, 
Thy glaucous chambers where the green day sleeps! 

Dead not with death ! — 

What secrets hath thy home 
Not mine then storied in exultant foam ! — 
Deeper, down deeper! mark me, yea, I come! 



THE SPIRIT OF THE STAR. 

[love spiritual.] 

71ft HERE is love for love ; the heaven 

^ Teems with possibilities ; 
Earth has such as heaven has given, 

Earth and all her sister seas. 
Heaven and earth and sea is gladder 
For it ; only man is sadder, 
Waxing wise in night for driven 
Drift of light he never sees. 

There are lives for lives ; and beauty- 
Born for beauty; for your earth 

Faith celestial given as booty 
To mortality of worth ; 

(18-2) 



THE SPIRIT OF THE STAR. 183 

Song for every song; unfolding 
Hope for dying hope; a holding 
Duty towards aspiring duty 
Godly as the laws of birth. 

Earth and ocean are prolific 

Of wild wonders as our sky; 
With fine shapes of fair, terrific, 

Who, if loved, shall never die: 
Daemons rugged as their mountains; 
Spirits sunny as their fountains ; 
Sylphids of the wind pacific 

As the stars they tremble by. 

I was lonely ; long had waited 

For the sweet eternal sleep ; 
Watching where the worlds dilated, 

Waned or wasted in the deep. 
Where beneath my star a planet 
Whirled and shone like glowing granite, 
While around it swung and grated 

Orbs of fire sweep in sweep. 



184 THE SPIRIT OF THE STAR. 

I was sad ; the silence wilted 
On me like a scentless bud 
Fading ere it blows. The quilted 

Clouds, like bursts of beating blood, 
Streamed beneath me ; and the starry 
Still serene above bent barry, — 
Thick with golden splashes tilted. — 
Seemed with arms of angels strewed. 

I was loveless with a yearning 
After love that never came ; 
All my being's fineness burning 

Outward, to no blushing shame 
Immolated ; but a splendor 
Of intention that was tender 
To compulsion ; all returning 
On my love with fiercer flame. 

So I left the stars whose lances 
Shook their arrowy gold in heat 

Of hard hyacinth ; the glances 
Of their million moony feet 



THE SPIRIT OF THE STAR. 185 



Ranged about me leaving. Beating 
Downward, left them still repeating 
Far farewells ; the trembling trances 
Of their white eyes falling sweet. 

Came unto your moon ; vast alleys 
Of white jasper cleaving hills 

Of chalcedony, whose valleys 
Cataracting crystal fills. 

Twixt two mountains — like a vision 

Seen through jewel-gates Elysian — 

Growing as a music dallies 

Into forms of dreams it thrills, — 

Long walls rose of beaming nacre 
Cloudy; coiling peace around 

Acre upon arching acre 
Of a city without bound: 

Caryatids alternated 

With Atlantes sculpture- weigh ted ; 

And its gates — some god the maker — 
Leaves of symboled diamond. 



186 THE SPIRIT OF THE STAR. 

In the pure light rocking, swimming 
Domes of dazzle swirl on swirl, 

Lifted columned temples brimming 
Oval roofs of silver curl ; 

Galleries of spar that sparkled ; 

Pillared palaces that darkled 

Moonstone, opal ; and, far dimming, 
Aqueducts of ghostly pearl. 

Streaming steeples sharp of daedal 

Emblem, each an obelisk 
Wrought of lividness, whose needle 

Balanced bubble, crescent, disc ; 
Some of diamond, like a blister 
Frozen ; some of topaz, glister 
Vinous; and each burning middle 
Dazzled like the eyes of Risk. 

Still I left it and descended 
Worldward. For the longing drew 

Me, and drawing me was blended 
With your Earth I never knew. 



THE SPIRIT OF THE STAR. 



187 



And did star and moon forsake me, 
I had answered what did take me 
Worldward, where it lay a splendid 
Blossom in a sea of dew. 

And when night came, lo, above you 

Sleeping by your folded sheep, 
O'er the hills I rose; to love you 

Came, and kissed you in your sleep. 
And the destinies had brought it 
So I told you, you who thought it 
Not so strange that I should love you, 
I a spirit of the deep. 

Ah, you knew how she had found you 

Sometime in some life not sad ; 
Won your soul to hers and bound you 

With chaste kisses that were glad. 

Days forget, but nights remember; 

And my love shall live an ember ' 

In you when the world around you 

Scoffs at this as one who 's mad : 



188 THE SPIRIT OE THE STAR. 



Idol Beauty! be one petal 

To its passion-flower! far 
Past Earth's ignorance — a metal 

Rusting that reflects no star ! — 
Live beyond men lest they shame you! 
Lest their shame, not I, should blame you ! 
Dream ! and when the shadows settle, 

Be the dream you dream you are ! 



AT NINEVEH. 

* '1 was that Syrian slave who loved a king 
* " Assyrian, with love that lived to hold 
" No hope beyond the madness of the thing" 

And she was beautiful as noons of gold ; 

And amorous as nights that swoon their stars 
O'er lands of romance. And the tale is told 

How, clad with day, between ranked warriors 

Steel-lustrous, down the hall of audience, 
'Mid pillared trophies of barbaric wars, 

She came unto his throne and asked, "Lord, whence 

Is love and why?" He, musing on her, said : 
"0 slave, man's love lies with the gods and hence, 
13 ( 189 ) 



190 AT NINEVEH. 



"Divine, is known but of the Spirithead. [why, 

'Why?' dost thou question? there! we know not 
Unless 'tis love which makes us deathless dead." 

Smiled ; and the woman passioning each eye 

With all the love that stammered in her blood, 
Dumb with wild language, clasped her hands on high, 

And in her veiling hair knelt, sobbing: "Good, 

O king, thy answer! for, behold, I love! — 
What freak of fate hath set this bitter brood, 

" Urned dusts of kings, between this love, whereof 

The rubric reads, 'The ashes of your dead 
Shall shriek dishonored/ yet I dare" . . . "Enough ! " 

He, motioning. Then for a second fed 

His gaze along her faultless form and face, 
Pointing cried, "Rhana! strike me off her head ! ' 

A tall deep-chested slave with tawny grace 

Strode at the mandate from the press. A form 
Royally favored. Deep a night-dark lace, 



AT NINEVEH. 191 



Her thick hair twisting to one supple arm, 

Flashed broad a blade the other. Rising shone 
With light the swift death — fell; and dripping warm 

Lifting the head he stood before the throne. 

And he who scowled there, "By the gods, 'tis well ! 
When slaves begin to babble " — As hewn stone 

Stern stood the slave, a son of Israel. 

Then striding on the monarch, in his eye 
The wrath of heaven and the hate of hell, 

Shrieked, "Lust! I loved her! look on us and die! " 

Swifter than fire clove him to the brain. 
Kissing that head he held fell with the cry — 

Loud in the fury of the stabbing rain 

A thousand weapons thrust against him slain — 

"Judge, God of Israel, between us twain!" 



EOMAUNT OF THE OAK. 

"1 RIDE to death, for my love is shame — 
* The Lady" Maurine of noble name, 

" Whose love is a lie! — Though life be long 
Is love the wiser? — Love made song 

"Of all my life; and the soul, that crept 
Before, arose like a star and leapt : 

" Still leaps, though it holds love less than true, 
Than noble, though pure as a spark of dew." 

The crest of his foeman, a heart of white 
In a bath of fire, burned the night. 

The stranger knight rode on and sung. 

His lance in the lover stuck and clung. . . . 

(192) 



ROM AUNT OF THE OAK. 193 

What woman is this in the weary dawn 
With the wild wood shadows standing wan? 

Who kneels, one hand on her straining breast, 
One hand on the dead man's bosom pressed? 

Her face as dim as the dead's; as cold 
As his tarnished armor of steel and gold? 

She hales him under the olden oak, 
Whose ruined trunk the wild-vines choke. 

Siit' stands him stiff, in his foreign arms, 
In its hollow heart: "Be safe from storms," 

She laughs. And his cloven casque is placed 
On his brow; and his riven shield is braced. 

She sings, as she gathers the forest flowers, 
"The dead have brides, and the dead are ours." 

And stares and stares. — When the moon arose 
Laughed, as it grew a full-blown rose, 

"The wreath on my hair as the moon is fresh, 
Eke the braid on his brow, on his neck the mesh. 



194 ROMA UNT OF THE OAK. 

" Ho, moon, shalt shrivel ; wild roses gay, 
Shall wilt; my heart, shalt wither away." . . . 

Where the ghostly paths with the shade were dark 
The wild roes stalked, and stood as stark 

As phantoms with eyes of flame, or fled — 
Like silence pursued — down the darkness dead. 

And the night grew harsh with the tempest's cry. 
In the oak with her warrior she would lie. 

When she heard his harness rattle and groan 

As the storm beat the oak and its boughs were blown, 

She shrunk in sobbing, "He's calling me, 
'Come, shelter thee from the fiends dost see.' 

"He knows; for his eyes are balls of heat 
Glowing the love of his heart's dead beat. 

" Wilt thou make it warm — this living heart 

With thy heart of dust? — Now who shall part?" . . . 

They found her closed in his armored arms. — 
Had he claimed his bride on that night of storms? 



SEP 22 1905 



